


Steve Rogers: Four Home Games And A Moving Van

by Christina786



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:00:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christina786/pseuds/Christina786
Summary: Steve Rogers-Barnes' "one-night-wedding” Vegas adventure was only the beginning of a strange new season in the life of Captain America, superstar tightend with the New England Patriots, whose wedding to his childhood crush, former military now turned teaching assistant and part-time stunt double Bucky Barnes(-Rogers), causes more waves than previously thought.Sequel to Bucky Barnes: Newly Dread, because I did not want to let go of this AU quite yet, but somehow the feel of this one turned out so different from Newly Dread...Loosely (!) based on Civil War. Also, I'm shit at summaries and staying on top of things. I haven't seen Infinity Wars yet (if you don't know someone's dead, they're still alive, right? Right???) and I started this one a loong time ago, so the events of IW don't play into this one. Also, I got no idea of the inner workings of football contracts and politics and stuff and thus just making it up as I go, so if you find any factual errors, I'm sorry. Just use this thing called the "willful suspension of disbelief" ;)





	1. Atlanta Falcons at New England Patriots

Steve was just getting out of the shower and drying his hair with a towel, when he heard the front door of his Backbay Brownstone Apartment shut. He had never seen the point of moving into a mansion in his rookie season when he did not know if he’d even stay on the team. And now he didn’t leave, because his landlady Myrtle Olsen, had been the luckiest encounter he had made when he came to Boston.  
She had bought this apartment decades ago for her son; after he had moved out, it had been rented out until her grandson, who had since moved to Minneapolis, was in need of a place to stay in Boston. Before Steve had moved in, Myrtle had been trying to find a suitable inhabitant for almost a year, because she wouldn’t just take anyone. She lived just two floors below and would always have an eye on his apartment when he was on away-games and also she’d come over for coffee or sometimes just buy groceries, when she noticed his fridge was empty. He definitely didn’t pay her enough rent for that service, but then again, he probably paid this service by talking to her and gossiping. Whenever he had the time to spare, he’d sit down with her and tell her about his life, which now included his adorable husband.  
  
She did not use the term adorable at first, though. The first time she had seen Bucky, she almost called the police on him, seeing that a tattooed guy with long hair and stubble, who was in addition talking Russian on the phone, was trying to get the door of her favourite tennant open. Bucky had tried to explain to her that he was Steve’s husband, but she didn’t believe him, preventing him to get into Steve’s apartment in spite of being at least two feet shorter than Bucky. The Bucky she had always imagined, based on Steve’s tales, had been a preppy gentleman dressed in chinos and dress shirts instead of ripped jeans, combat boots and worn out t-shirts. Lucky for Bucky, Steve had heard the commotion in the stairway and opened the door just as Myrtle had been dialling. She looked at Steve, who hugged Bucky tightly into his chest, then down at her phone. Then she frowned.  
  
“You want to tell me that this is your Bucky?” she asked, her voice slightly sceptical.  
  
“Yes, Myrtle, meet Bucky, Bucky, that’s my landlady, Myrtle.” She gave him the mustering up-down-up and Steve could see her eyes stopping at Bucky’s behind for a moment. He might have told her about Bucky’s great bum. She gave a slight appreciative nod.  
  
Bucky had pressed his lips tightly together. When they were younger, Bucky had always been easy-going and almost overly social, but these days Steve had noticed a shift. Bucky wasn’t as quick in trusting people and situations and he took a little longer to relax in situations that weren’t clearly marked as friendly. So he waited for some sort of reaction or cue in Myrtle’s behaviour. Myrtle, however, was still trying to link her mental image of Bucky to the person he was in real life. But then she looked into Steve’s happy face and smiled.  
  
“Well, you might look like someone from the Russian mob, but Steve likes you, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But we might have different interpretations of the word ‘adorable’, Stevie.”  
  
Bucky’s lips loosened and he smiled tentatively. “Thank you, m’am. I’d tell you that my rough exterior will keep bad folk away from this home, but I’m pretty sure you got this.”  
  
Myrtle had laughed out loud, the ice broken, and now she fiercly loved him. Sometimes Steve suspected that she loved Bucky more than she liked him. But that was okay, Bucky was lovable.  
  
But where had he been? Oh, yes, his small Back Bay apartment. The good thing about his apartment was that – other than being cheaper than a mansion and in the heart of Boston – he could hear the front door going from every corner. As he stepped out of the bathroom and looked right, across the kitchen counter and toward the entrance door, he saw Bucky leaning against the shut door and breathing in deeply, the chest beneath his worn out shirt heaving, his eyes closed.  
  
“Buck! You’re here! I didn’t think you’d be so early.”  
  
Bucky’s eyes opened and flicked over toward him and he grinned when he saw Steve standing buttnaked just covered half by the kitchen counter.  
  
“Dinner’s served?” he asked and wiggled his eyebrows like the cheeseball he was sometimes. Then he broke out into his Steve-smile. The smile that was especially reserved for Steve, the smile that made his face look younger and his eyes so much softer than the gray steel they normally were. Then he gave a nod: “Yeah, the good thing with having most of my stuff here; I get to fly cabin luggage only, no need to wait for anything. And now that I’ve figured out the subway system in this city, nothing can hold me back.” His right hand pushed some hair that had gotten out os his poytail out of his eyes.  
  
“Why are you leaning against the door?” Steve then asked.  
  
“To make sure, she doesn’t get in here. I have been myrtled. She saw me from her window and then came to the door to talk to me. Took me ten minutes to get out of her grasp and up here. Honestly, that woman will talk me into an early grave.” Steve knew, Bucky loved her just as much as she loved him, but he’d never be caught admitting to that.  
  
“You know what sucks?” he asked his husband.  
  
Bucky looked at Steve, puzzled. “Nah? What?”  
  
“You’re still over there, leaning against the door and haven’t hugged me yet.” He tried to pout, but had to smile anyways. He probably had a Bucky-smile, just like Bucky had his Steve-smile.  
  
With only a few long steps, Bucky crossed the room and cupped Steve’s face. “You are a spoiled brat, Mr. Rogers-Barnes.” He said, just before he kissed Steve.  
  
“Well, Mr. Barnes-Rogers, it’s just a matter of how you raised me. A little more authority and a little less babying?”  
  
“Okay, then get dressed and we’ll talk.”  
  
“But there’s so many things we could do if I’m not dressed.” Steve whined.  
  
“Yeah, but you being already naked robs me of the experience of undressing you, which I immensely enjoy. Also, I gotta eat. And I’m not going to cook tonight.” Bucky tried to not get distracted by his husband crowding his space, stark naked.  
  
Steve smiled. “No need to. Give me a couple minutes and I’m ready to go.” And with that he disappeared in his bedroom. Bucky was half relieved, half disappointed. But he had asked Steve to dress. Because food. Food was important.  
  
After an early dinner at the Rock Bottom, one of their favourite restaurants in town, they took a little walk through Boston Common. Bucky loved the lake and the swan boats and his highlight were the ducklings. He would have never admitted to that, either, but beneath his immovable, hard army veteran exterior, he was a marshmellow. Steve smiled when Bucky stood beside him, leaning onto the railing of the bridge, and fondly looked out onto the lake.  
  
“So, what’s new with the team?” he asked Steve and Steve remembered something he had been trying to avoid talking about. He avoided Bucky’s gaze for a moment and looked down at his hands.  
  
“Well…the team’s fine, it’s Stark I’m more concerned about. Ever since I became Captain America, his interest in me has increased exponentially. Not just because I have his attention as a game making player, but also because apparently I am highly marketable. So he’s working on ways to get me marketed. And branded. And I don’t even know all the terms for the stuff he’s making up. Anyway, I’ll stay Rogers for the rest of the season, because they could not fit Rogers-Barnes on the jersey. And he wants to meet you. Tomorrow, after the game.”  
  
“Me?” Bucky asked completely taken by surprise. “Why would he want to meet me?”  
  
“Because he wants to get to know the spouses of his most important players. He and Gisele have met several times, I hear he’s been over at Brady’s house a couple of times. So, it’s nothing too far out of the ordinary, but you might wanna take a shower tomorrow.” Steve tried to grin playfully.  
  
“Or make it a point not to. I don’t like that guy. I don’t trust people with that much money.” Bucky had gone from open and soft to pensive and suspicious.  
  
Steve chuckled. “You tend to forget that I’m also kinda rich these days.” He tried to get Bucky to lighten up.  
  
“Nah, I don’t. But I know where you came from. That guy had it blown up his ass since he was a child. I mean, he comes from money and he doesn’t know how to appreciate it, he’s just afraid to run out. Which is why he’s always concerned with making more of it.”  
  
“You should tell him that to his face, honey, I’d love to see that discussion.” Steve said trying hard not to laugh. Bucky had a point, though. There were moments in which Steve thought that there was a line between marketing and lying. And sometimes Tony Stark was using that line as a jump rope.

*

  
“You were amazing, doll.” Bucky said as Steve came toward him from the changing rooms and smiled like he was high. Bucky had noticed during the pre-season games, how Steve needed that adrenalin rush and the endorphins after a good win. And he was high as a kite on winning the first home game of the season, his hair still wet from the shower and a twinkle in his eye like he was up to no good.

As he neared Bucky, he started beaming with even more excitement and hugged his husband close. “Buck, we did it, we beat fucking Atlanta! This was one of the hardest games we anticipated and we didn’t even leave the field with a doubt if we’d deserved this win.”

Bucky grinned and he knew, he probably wore a proud smile as well. “Yes, Steve, I know. All the game tape we watched…or you watched while I was sleeping in your lap, it all paid off. I’m so proud of you.” He gave him an affectionate kiss on the lips and they both were giggling like teenagers. This was still rather new, they had gotten married in the off-season, when Steve had been on a party with his fellow Pats and Bucky had been dragged to Vegas by his friends Clint and Nat. They hadn’t planned on doing this, but now that they did, they were the happiest they had been in years.

“Rogers, good game”, came a voice from behind Bucky and then a suit-clad dark-haired guy turned up in his periphal vision and shook Steve’s hand. Bucky half-turned and for a moment he was wondering why someone would wear sunglasses deep down in the catacombs of the Gilette Stadium, but then again, that guy was Tony Stark and he also wore a teal-coloured suit. There was probably some reasoning behind it.

Steve gave an appreciative nod. “Thanks, Tony, we did our best and our best was awesome today.”

“Great start into the season, especially now that Gronkowski is still a little worse for the wear. And this must be your husband Mr. Barnes, right?” Tony looked at Bucky and Bucky wished he’d look anywhere else but at him. He felt slightly out of place being scrutinized by the CEO of Stark Industries, the guy who had been delivering weapon systems to his base in Afghanistan.

“Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve had the honour of seeing you before, back when you visited the troups out in the Middle East.”

“You a soldier? That explains why we did not see you around much last season.” He and Steve had decided that people did not need to know that they hadn’t seen each other for almost ten years before the night they got married in Vegas. For some reason, people didn’t really get it.

“I have been honourably discharged after a severe injury. But yeah, I gave Steve some space for his developing career at a major household name in the NFL last year. He didn’t need the distraction.” Bucky hated how much he sounded like kissing ass. But this was important to Steve and his career.

“Well, he doesn’t need it now either, but fortunately for us, you don’t seem to be distracting dear Cap here too much. But yeah, I am happy that you two are able to join us for dinner at the Prudential this evening. See you then, I have to go talk to Brady.”

Only as he left, Bucky felt his fist unclench. He hadn’t even noticed how he had clenched it in the first place, even though he had had the distinct wish to smack Tony Stark right then and there. As soon as the guy was out of earshot, Bucky mumbled: “What an asshole.”

“Yeah, but a business-savy asshole at that.” They heard Sam’s dark voice behind them. Steve turned around eagerly to hug his manager/best friend beside Bucky. “Sam! I didn’t know you were gonna be here today, I thought, you had a date.”

Sam looked a little morose, but nodded at Bucky and Bucky gave a nod back. They were not on touching terms yet and Bucky would have feared to wrinkle the crisp dark gray power suit Sam was wearing. Sam had started to get that Bucky was not after Steve’s money and Bucky knew that Sam was always looking out for Steve’s best interests. They made a good team whenever Steve was about to do something really stupid, but they still weren’t too sure how to be around each other.

“Yeah, and as you can see that date went wonderfully.” He sighed.

“Did she ditch you during drinks or dinner or during the first quarter of the game?” Bucky asked. He knew Sam’s problems of letting work be work and letting loose a little.  
“She ditched me when I told her Steve’s stats for the second time.”

“Hey, that’s once more than last time.” Bucky said. “Still, maybe you should work on your small talk skills. You’re so smooth otherwise.”

Sam turned red. “I’m what?”

“Yeah, you always got a clever comeback and such a smart mouth on you.” Bucky enthused.

“You can stop flirting now, Mr. Barnes-Rogers.” Sam mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, Bucky’s right. You are a smart cookie. You might wanna think about taking a vacation. Or at least a weekend off.”

Sam looked scandalised. “Last time I left you alone for more than twelve hours, y’all got married and I still have to deal with that whenever Stark comes my way. What would you do if I went away for a weekend? Buy real estate? Get a cat? Adopt a dozen orphans from Bhutan? Get papped having sex in a public place?”

Steve looked like he sincerely thought about it. “Nah, I’m more of a dog person, but we should get one. And we rarely ever get papped. They ignore us because they don’t want to use the words ‘homo’ and ‘football’ in the same sentence.”

Sam sighed. “I am so happy that worked out in your favour. At least for now. Still, please don’t get papped having sex in public spaces.”

“Because I am so eager to do that otherwise.” Bucky deadpanned.

“Well, you also said that you didn’t like the name Barnes-Rogers and I don’t see you changing it, so how am I to trust you on things you say?” Sam said.

“Well, that was before we actually decided to stay together. Now it’s just…it is kind of cool to see we belong together. I like that. Is that possessive? Maybe a little, but come on, you’d brag a little about a guy like that being your husband as well, wouldn’t you?” Bucky said slightly defensive.

Sam cocked an eyebrow. “If I were gay, maybe. But the press still hasn’t written a word about Steve’s being married. They know, but they haven’t really written about it. They also still refer to Steve as just Rogers. I never really thought about that before, but maybe you’re right, Steve, maybe they really don’t want to bring the gay into the game.”

“That pun was bad.” Bucky groaned.

Steve grinned.

Sam pondered. There had been fan sightings of the two of them on their “first date” back in New York. He had seen pictures of the two of them on several blogs; Bucky and Steve, holding hands walking through the Coney Island subway station, Steve carrying Bucky piggyback through the cold water, the two of them sitting on a bench, watching people on the boardwalk pass them. Their next date or meeting or whatever to call it had been in Santa Monica, which had made Sam a little nervous, because he would not have been able to do anything if they had managed to get themselves into a situation. They did fine, though. A little PDA, like a kiss in the parking lot of Crossfit LA after a training session, the two of them having breakfast at Coogie’s Café, jogging on the beach, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing scandalous, nothing exciting, just two people being in love. Or bros being bros, as one paper called it. Needless to say that they did not print the picture from the parking lot. Steve might have a point. Had Bucky been another Gisele or a cheerleader or any girl at that, their romance would probably be all over the papers. But until now there was nothing despite the whole press team being open about the marriage. In theory that was, no one had ever asked if Steve had a love life. He knew that this was a lot easier for Bucky, whom he admired for his calm approach to the NFL-circus, but he could not help but wonder why no one had even let the new double name slip even accidentally.

*

  
Bucky finished the last of his delicious skin-seared Atlantic salmon and looked at Steve dreamy-eyed. “That salmon tasted better than almost anything I’ve ever eaten. That was such a glorious meal.”

Steve smiled back. “This could be heaven, if there weren’t those awful mustard-coloured chairs.” He crinkled his nose in disgust.

He looked around the Top of the Hub, the restaurant and skybar atop the Prudential center, and there were a lot of familiar faces all around. Unfortunately though, they were all scattered around tables for 2 to 4 people, which made it hard to talk to anybody else. Except if you were Tony Stark, who just plopped ungracefully into the chair next to Bucky.

“I’m glad you followed my invitation, Rogers. I wanted to take the chance to get to know you a little better in a more private setting and I meant to introduce you to my wonderful girlfriend Ms. Potts, but she is still busy looking at pictures of the Brady bunch.” Tony grinned at them winningly, shaking their hands.

Steve startled into motion a little overwhelmed by the attention of Tony Stark. The had been talking before, but not much in depth. This was the first time Tony didn’t start out mentioning football. “Oh, we know Pepper, she ran into us the other day at the stadium, when I had training and Bucky came to watch. She and Bucky seemed to get along well, right Buck?”

Bucky looked at the guy in the sunglasses. It was nine at night and he was inside and he was wearing sunglasses. Bucky started to suspect that he had glued them to his head in a lab accident. “Yeah, we talked about a lot of stuff, turns out she knows Natasha, a good friend of mine from the opera. When Nat was still dancing, they met in New York. Small world.” Steve could almost feel the unease oozing out of Bucky, whose every muscle seemed to be at high alert. Bucky did not trust Tony one bit, but Tony was oblivious to it. He grinned broadly.

“Nat? You don’t happen to be talking about Natasha Romanoff, do you? She was such a great dancer, it’s a pity, she never got her break.” Tony seemed uncharistically engaged in the subject.

“Yeah, that’s her. She is my boss, so to speak, I teach Russian at UCLA in Santa Monica with her. And she is fine. She does stunts and is way happier doing that than having to cope with the public eye.” Bucky replied. He knew how Nat hated it when people got all up in her business.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t? Mind being in the public eye, I mean. Because being married to an NFL-player, and a pretty darn good one at that, comes with a lot of publicity.”

“Until now, there hasn’t been too much of a circus around the two of us. Sure, there’re pictures on the internet, but the press couldn’t care less, it seems.” Bucky replied cautiously.

“Well”, Tony said and took a hold of the back of Bucky’s chair to help himself up, but also to draw a little closer to Bucky, “Isn’t that just lucky for your privacy and your husband’s marketing value?” He gave a curt nod and excused himself, which left Bucky glaring after him.

“He owns most of the papers in the Boston area, doesn’t he? Did he just imply that he makes the media not have an interest in us to keep your marketing value high?” Bucky asked Steve, who didn’t seem quite as flabberghasted.

“I guess that’s what he wanted to say.” Steve said, feeling pretty unsettled. There was a moments silence and Steve could see Bucky’s shoulders hunch a little, as the tension left his body.

“Am I supposed to just go away and stay in the background?” Bucky asked quietly.

Steve shook his head. “No. You’re my husband, you are a part of me. And if there’s no other way out, we’re gonna have to let Sam down and get caught having sex in a public place. Or a lot of public places. Until they get it.” Steve said determinedly.

Bucky sighed, exasperated. “I am not going to have sex in public spaces with you. Or anyone for that matter. What is it with the two of you that this is such a big thing?!”

"Oh, it's exhilirating, the fear of getting caught?" A voice behind Bucky said. Steve looked on as his husband turned around to one of his colleagues, who just plopped down where Tony had previously sat. Steve could see the awe in Bucky's eyes as he looked at the frame of the guy, who was even taller than Steve and had the shoulders to match. A small twinge of jealousy made itself known in Steve's stomach, but he chased it away as soon as he noticed it. This was the single most hetero player on the whole roster. And heck, he had been staring at him just like Bucky, when he had seen him for the first time.

"Rob Gronkowski, they call me Gronk." he said and extended a hand to Bucky.

"James Barnes, but they call me Bucky." Bucky replied in the same smooth tone.

"You probably meant to say 'James Barnes-Rogers', right?" Steve felt the need to add. What did he do? He chided himself internally, he could have as well just have peed on his husband's leg to mark his territory and it would not have been less smooth.

But Bucky just smiled at him. "Aaand that would be my beautiful husband, but you probably knew that." he laughed.

Gronk shrugged. "Had to check personally if you can keep up with the hype your husband's building around you, I believe by now we've all seen the pictures and heard the stories, I tell you, that guy's head over heels for you."

"As he should considering we're married and I'm hella cute, right?" Bucky said before Steve could even start to defend himself or deny anything.

Gronk barked a laugh. "Well, I'm in love already. Looking forward to seeing you around." He gave Bucky a clap on the back that made him almost tip forward into his empty plate, before he made his way over to the rest of the team, beckoning the two of them to follow him.


	2. Carolina Pathers at New England Patriots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes on some demons and Steve the Patriots' head of marketing.

Steve could hear Myrtle laugh two floors down and popped his head out of the door. “Bucky, that you?”  
  
Myrtle was the one who answered. “Oh, Steve”, her head appeared over the staircase’s railing as she looked up, “your husband is telling me the funniest stories about you growing up in Brooklyn.”  
  
“It wasn’t funny, it was bad, we were poor and we had to walk to school every morning.” Steve replied in a mock grave voice.  
  
“Yeah, but we also got to know our neighbours pretty well”, he only heard Bucky’s voice. Bucky’s head did not appear over the railing. Sometimes he still experienced vertigo when he looked up or down high structures, “I just told Myrtle about Mrs. Adkins, who used to sleepwalk during her afternoon naps.”  
  
“It’s a wonder she never got hit by any cars or fell down stairs.” Steve now settled at the railing, looking down to the first floor landing, seeing Myrtle, but not Bucky.  
  
“Yeah, but remember the time when she sat down in the café on the corner and they just brought her coffee like no big deal and then she woke up and was totally confused?” he heard Bucky’s voice get excited and he was happy about that. Bucky rarely talked about the time before he came to Santa Monica. He did not enjoy strolling down memory lane with Steve, because there were a lot of scary situations, people he lost, sadness and survivor’s guilt coming their way, whenever they did. For every good memory of him having fun with Steve, he had two of his guardians treating him like crap. For too many of the friends Bucky had made in the military, there was a headstone in Arlington or their respective hometown graveyards. For every successful mission, there were at least two failed ones. So yes, Steve was happy hearing his husband talk about the past in such a good mood.  
  
Myrtle, however, smiled knowingly and shook her head as she left for her apartment, before she announced that she needed to go fold her laundry and left the two of them to themselves in the stairway. Steve heard a commotion and then the scrape of army boots on stairs, as Bucky came up to the third floor and smiled at Steve with shining eyes and hugged him tight. “I missed you. It’s always too long being away from Boston.”  
  
Steve found his lips and kissed him softly, then pressed their foreheads together while he looked into Bucky’s eyes. “Hi.” He just said in a deep murmur. “You’re here now and that’s all that counts.” He added after a moment. They made their way into Steve’s apartment, Steve walking behind Bucky to gaze at his behind. He had missed this sight. When they reached the bedroom, Bucky dropped his bag, and jumped playfully at Steve, who laughed and easily caught his husband, who proceeded to close his legs behind Steve’s back. As soon as Bucky had found out that Steve was indeed able to carry him, he had started to do this every time he got excited, and Steve loved it. It was their thing, it was a little childish, and a lot playful, a side of Bucky that came crawling back to the ex-soldier slowly, but pronouncedly. Steve’s hand reached behind him, feeling around for the door and as he finally found it, he swung it closed and leaned Bucky’s back on it, to get a little of his weight off. With Bucky kissing him, he had trouble concentrating, so he forgot what he had wanted to say and instead returned Bucky’s kiss almost feverishly. When Bucky broke it off to look at Steve, Steve sighed. “Why again do you have to live all the way on the other side of the continent?”  
  
“Got a job there…”, Bucky kissed Steve’s cheek, “Friends…”, he went on down Steve’s neck, “My apartment…” He kissed Steve’s clavicle. “My life pretty much. Except for my amazing husband.”  
  
It was the third week of the season, and they had agreed to a rhythm where Bucky taught Mondays through Wednesdays and arrived in Boston Thursday afternoon, whenever the Patriots had a homegame. Unfortunately, that also meant that they mostly did not and would not see each other on away-weeks. But just knowing when they would meet again helped a lot during the days they could not just reach out to touch the other. And when Bucky greeted Steve like that, it was all worth it.  
  
“How much time do we have?” Bucky asked, mischief playing in his eyes, and Steve hated to let him down.  
  
“I gotta be at a business thing with Sam in an hour. They already started working on next season’s contract clauses for some reason and asked us to come in for some preliminary meeting. Sam says, I shouldn’t sweat it, it’s probably a good sign they are already starting to think about my contract, but I don’t know. Something feels off.”  
  
Bucky let himself slide down Steve’s body until his feet touched the ground, but he did not look disappointed, rather concerned. Searchingly, he looked through the feelings shown in Steve’s eyes and assessed. “You really are worried something is up, aren’t you?” his voice was quiet, calm. It soothed Steve.  
  
Steve shrugged. “It’s just… Tony’s always been all kinds of weird, but those past couple days, he’s been acting a little strange around me, even for his standards.”  
  
Bucky smiled softly and let his hand stroke Steve’s cheek. “Whatever it is, I’m with you to the end of the line. To infinity and beyond, or something like that.”  
  
That made Steve smile. He wanted to say something, but decided differently. Then he gave his husband a kiss on the forehead and hugged him as tight as he could without breaking any bones. As great as playing for the Patriots was, as much as it had been his life before Bucky had come barging in unexpectedly a few months ago, he now realised that there were things more important than being on a team of superheroes.

  


*

  
Sam looked pissed. Steve had never seen Sam look that pissed. The moment they had heard the conditions of the new contract, Steve had known that if it came to it, Sam was as willing to ride into battle to fight the new clauses as he was. Sam was willing to go to war with the Patriots’ legal team for Bucky. And while Steve himself was definitely boiling with anger, he was deeply touched by the loyalty of his manager.

“So, what you’re saying is that my client has to keep secret that he and Mr. Barnes-Rogers are married? He is to pretend like he is still a single guy in search of a lucky LADY? What is this? The NFL or a fucking boyband?!”

“Mr. Wilson, if you would please mind your language. This is just in the interest of your client. First of all, his marketing value is much higher if the female fans see him as attainable.” Thaddeus Ross on Stark’s side of the table calmly recited. He was in charge of most of the financial and marketing strategies and he was a cold, calculating business man. Sam was sure, he’d have no problems with casualties on either side as long as the team and the shareholders made a profit in the end.

Steve gave a snort. “As if they’d ever get to know me…”

“Cap, that’s not the point. There is also the fact that the male fans often reject gay athletes. And it would make it a lot harder for you to play in any other team in the NFL.” Tony tried to sound as sensible as possible. He tried to act like he was on his side. Or maybe in a strange way, he even was on Steve’s side, Tony was hard to read.

“My client is a decent enough player to get onto a team without having to deny his husband, Mr. Stark.”

Mr. Ross shook his head. “See, this is where you are wrong, Wilson. The NFL has a lot of fans and players from the conservative and Christian parts of society and those guys feel threatened in their belief-system if some player comes prancing around town with his boyfriend. We need to consider that. You – as his manager – need to consider that. We were able to keep the press from writing about this scandal for now, but I don’t know how long it will take until pictures will leak and people will suspect. I think we can all agree that what we want to do is in the best interest of Steve.”

Steve looked at Ross and shook his head. “I’d rather be checking out people at Target than playing in the NFL and acting like I am somebody that I’m not.”

Ross snorted in disbelief. “You don’t even belief that yourself.”

Steve was about to respond, when Tony pleaded: “Steve, you should at least consider this for a moment before you decline. Declining this contract could mean the end of your career as a professional athlete. I know Wilson is on your side and he only wants what he thinks is best for you, but I ask of the two of you that you reconsider this. Sleep on it. This was only a preliminary meeting after all. Nothing is final. We can still make adjustments as we see fit…”

“And we might be finding some more catches in the fineprint.” Sam murmured under his breath.

“I did not quite catch that, Mr. Wilson?” Thaddeus Ross said.

“Nothing. I said nothing. We’ll read through the contract draft and get back to you. But you should clearly reconsider your morals, trying to force a player into denying his significant other. Would you do this with a player dating a model?”

“Are you implying that we are homophobic?” one of Stark’s lawyers asked alarmed.

“I never said that.” Sam said, defensively raising his hands.

“But you implied it.” Ross stated and made a note.

“No, I would never. Now if you excuse us, we need to get my client to practice, as he still is on the team this season.” Sam got up and left, leaving Steve sitting at the table. After a couple of awkward seconds, Steve, looking around, realised that it was his cue to leave as well and struggled to get out of his impractical designer chair and follow Sam through the wooden door, as his chair cluttered to the ground.

As soon as they reached the corridor and were out of earshot, Sam started to vent: “Assholes. How can they… This is so incredulous. I don’t even know what to say. And to threaten that you won’t find a place on any other NFL-team…” He muttered and cursed for a while as they were walking side by side through the office block.  
Steve was uncharacteristically quiet. Then he only asked one thing: “How would that affect Bucky?”

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“I mean the media. After Stark’s speech back there, I assume it is him who has kept the media off our backs all this time. For his own ends and purposes, yes, but still. How would this affect Bucky? If he had to deal with the media? If people started asking questions? If they started stopping him on the street? Stared at his arm. Called him slurs? Maybe Stark is right in some weird and wicked way, maybe it is better to not let the world know.”

“I don’t believe that Bucky would feel better if you publicly denied him. Maybe they would make you get a beard.” Sam said, a little hesitant.

“Why not get a beard?”

“Steve, stop being cutesy, I’m talking a girl to act as your girlfriend. I don’t think Bucky would approve. And I do believe that Bucky is more resilient than you think.” Sam stopped and looked at his client, “Also Steve, there is a difference between not denying your spouse and shouting out into the world that you and your Russian professor are having what I assume is some pretty hot sex. Of course, you don’t want to cause him discomfort, but you shouldn’t just base this decision on Bucky. And even more, you should not do what you think would be better for Bucky before talking to Bucky.”

Steve chuckled. “He’s a teaching assistant, not a professor.”

Sam facepalmed. “Is that seriously all you got out of that speech?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know, Sam. It just, it felt so immediate. Like I’d have to make that decision right away.”

“No, you don’t. Talk to Bucky. Think about what feels right for you. Think about the person you want to be. Do you want to be the guy who hid in the closet? Do you want to be that guy to the LBGT+ community? This decision is big, Steve. Don’t just take the easy way out. Think about it, tell me what you want to do, and I will make it happen the way you want it. Even if it involves you and Barnes having sex in public.”

Steve laughed heartily, then looked at Sam, immensely grateful. “Sam, thank you. I really could not do this thing without you. You are seriously more of a friend by now than a manager.”

“Yeah, but I hope you still remember that paycheck. But that’s me for you, becoming a protective mother hen for my first and only client and his charming husband.”

"Sam, Steve, is that you?" they heard a voice in a thick accent behind them. When they turned around, Carolina's quarterback, T'Challa stood in the hallway behind them.

"T'challa, I haven't seen _you_ in a long time. How's things with you?"

"Oh, I'm good, playing your boy here tomorrow. He owes me a good game, last time he swindled us out of a good victory." he grinned at Steve, but there was something in his eyes that said that he was only half joking.

"It was a fair trick play, we won fair and square, T'Challa. Anyway, looking forward to the game tomorrow, your team's amazing this season. Will be cool to beat you again." Steve said and tipped his imaginary hat.

"I was wondering about that, how is married life treating you? Settling down and things? I heard you found yourself a real sweetheart." the smirk and a wink from the Panthers' quarterback almost made Steve protective of Bucky. But then he remembered that probably nobody had told T'Challa that...

"Yeah, Bucky's great. He even comes to see all our homegames."

As Steve had predicted, T'Challa made a double take. "He?"

"Yes, he. We've known each other for ages. Turns out it was love."

After a short moment of consideration, T'Challa smiled. "Well then, good luck for the game and congratulations on getting married. It's probably not easy. There's too much hate out in that world of ours."

Steve returned T'Challa's smile. He respected the guy, he was a great leader and a fair opponent. But most of all, he was a decent human being and a friend.

*

When Steve got home, he found Myrtle at their apartment, nursing a cup of tea, sitting across from Bucky, the two of them deep in thought. Their heads drove up as the door opened, and when they saw Steve, they greeted him and settled back into their comfortable conversation. Steve tried to quietly gather fresh clothes and a towel as to not interupt them.

“…it gets easier as the memories grow hazy. Then you start to get unsettled because you start to forget the sound of their voice or the way they pronounced a certain word or their smell. But eventually it doesn’t hurt as much. Then again, I never went through the kind of trauma, you had to go through. Do the memories even get hazier for you?”

“They grow fainter. Like washed out clothes. The sound isn’t as loud any more, the taste of gun powder in my mouth fades, the smell of iron in the air isn’t as distinct. But I can still see their faces. They are still so real to me sometimes.”

“Remember them. Their lives. Don’t try to shove it all away. Remember the good times. They would not want you to dwell on their deaths.”

Steve felt like he was intruding. Bucky had been talking to him about the war, but this was a different kind of animal. His husband didn’t seem to mind that he was there, but he didn’t ask Steve to be a part of the conversation either. Myrtle looked at him briefly, when he got into the bathroom, but Bucky hardly took notice. Steve closed the door behind himself and sat down on the closed toilet lid for a moment. Sometimes he forgot the things that Bucky had gone through, because Bucky seemed so put together and well, but then there were times when Bucky reacted strangely or unexpectedly to situations. Steve had offered to listen or get him help, but Bucky had never wanted to talk about his experiences with anybody, no counselor, no self-help group. On rare occasions, he had opened up to Steve, but those had been far and in between. And here he was, willingly talking to Steve’s 67 year-old landlady. Steve smiled to himself. Sometimes good things came unexpectedly in the shape of a slender woman with greying hair.

*

  
When Steve stepped out of the bathroom in fresh clothes and with still slightly wet hair, Myrtle had already left and Bucky was rinsing out their cups at the kitchen sink. He was in his home uniform consisting of sweatpants and a worn out t-shirt and looked so much like home, it tugged at Steve’s heartstrings. When he saw Steve, he smiled fondly, and all Steve could do was try not to melt.

“Hey, nice to see you again.” He turned around to face Steve and set the cups down, eyeing his husband, as he drew closer. When Steve was in touching distance, he brushed his fingers across the back of Steve’s hand.

“Myrtle and I were talking about her late husband, that’s how we got to that gloomy topic, you witnessed before. No need to worry, I’m fine.”

Steve gave Bucky a peck on the cheek. “I wasn’t worried. Actually, I thought it was good that you were talking with someone about that…these…about the war. You don’t do that very often.” His hand had caught Bucky’s left hand in his and his eyes looked at the skin beneath the heavily tattoed surface. There were silver lines cutting through the design and the skin wasn’t smooth, but slightly worn, like old parchment. He kissed the top of Bucky’s wrist and his forearm. Then he hugged the brunette.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it with you, Steve, I just really don’t wanna talk about it with anyone. Sometimes it just happens.”

Steve gave a nod. “I know, I know, Buck. But I need you to tell me, when you are hurting.”

“Right now you’re hugging me so tight, I’m having trouble breathing.” Bucky chuckled, a little out of breath.

Steve let go of him and looked into his grinning face.

“Really Steve, I’m fine. You however, look a little unsettled. How’d the meeting go?”

“Bad.”

“Bad?”

“Worse.”

“How?” Bucky asked, a crease building in between his eyebrows.

“That…he…” Steve began pacing. He always started pacing when he was angry and it drove Bucky crazy. Right now, he was more concerned with the look on Steve’s face. “Tony basically said, I have to pretend I am single and hetero for my marketing value to stay high. He paid off the press to leave us alone, and he kind of threatened me that our life would be a living hell once the media and other NFL teams got wind of us.”

“So after playing it cool for the past couple months, he now decides you have to be single? How fucked up is that?”

“Yes, and it has to be in my new contract that I won’t be talking about my relationship to you, that my name will stay just Rogers and so on.” Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Bucky gave a nod. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him no, of course. I would have told him to go fuck himself, but Sam said, I might wanna keep it diplomatically friendly.”

“Sam’s right. And you should consider some of it. Like, I mean, not lying about us, but purposefully not talking about your private life.”  
“They want to make me a hetero guy.” Steve’s voice rose and there was a hint of desperation in it.

“Yeah, not a snowball’s chance in hell, with that shoe collection of yours.”

Steve chuckled, but stayed serious. “Bucky, you need to take this seriously. We do. This is about our immediate future. I can’t sign with the Patriots if they want me to act like someone who I’m not. And kids look up to me. They might be happy if I openly say that I am married to a guy.”

“Yeah, but their parents might hate you for – in their eyes – driving their kids into homosexuality. Not everybody out there is as open and progressive with these things as your mother was. So, Hooray for you as an icon, but think this through. See if they would be willing to meet in the middle. Leave the status quo as it is. But don’t sign anything quite yet. And please don’t try and be a hero.”

“I’m not trying to be a hero, Buck, I just wanna show people that being gay doesn’t make you less of a person or a player or anything.”

“I know, Stevie, but please think this through before you jump out of that plane without a parachute. Because you won’t be making it back onto the plane once you jumped. And you know that I am right there by your side, so try to not get me killed.”

Steve grinned at Bucky, despite the serious topic. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

“No. A lot, but not anything. I’m not Meatloaf. And even he wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re a nerd, James Buchanan Barnes-Roger.”

“And you’re a menace, Steven Grant Rogers-Barnes.”

“You still love me.”

“Course I do. My life would be totally boring without you. I don’t even know what I did before we met. Oh baby, oh baby…” Bucky grimaced. Steve grabbed his arm, and threw him over his shoulder while Bucky couldn’t stop laughing.

“Oh, I’ll show you, you’re in a lot of trouble, Mister.” Steve growled playfully as he carried Bucky to the bedroom.

*

  
The victory against the Panthers was a hard fought fight, but deserved. Even Bucky knew that, and despite having looked through hours of video tapes at Steve’s side while grading papers, he still had not the faintest idea when it came to the deeper workings in football. He knew the game well enough to enjoy watching his husband play, but he never really got deeper into it. And he hated discussing the sport. Clint, his best friend’s kinda-boyfriend had gotten into football when Bucky had told him that his former highschool crush played for the Patriots and it had been Clint who had made him sit through his first whole football game, insisting that there had to be some beauty to that sport. Bucky had found it in the tight spandex of Steve’s pants, totally not checking him out, but Clint had actually developed a deep-seated interest in football. Bucky was sure Nat hated him a little for that. Okay, maybe a lot.

Anyhow, Steve had saved the Pats several times coming out of nowhere, catching passes seemingly uncatchable or clearing the path for Edelman to ‘get squirrelly’ and not be buried beneath 400 pounds of Pathers-defense. When he got back to the changing rooms, Bucky stood there, slightly uncomfortable. He didn’t know if it was still okay for him to be there and Steve could see it written all over his face. The funny thing, though, was how many of the players went by and greeted Bucky with a nod, a smile, a clap on the shoulder telling him his husband did good today (Edelman) or even a bone crunching hug (Gronk). Gronk was a professional on the field, but a puppy golden retriever who didn’t always know how much force there was in his movements in his spare time. He grinned a goofy grin at Bucky. “Dude, you’re like our talisman these days. It’s like Rogers can’t even miss when you are there. Great seeing you.” Steve was the last to pass Bucky. He held his helmet in his right hand and softly went to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear with his left, before giving him a peck on the lips, just as the door opened again, and Gronk looked out into the hallway. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, but Bucks, would you mind giving us a knock in case Stark comes waltzing in? I hate having to face a suited guy when I’m stark naked.” He grinned like he just made the greatest pun in the histroy of puns and Bucky chuckled, before he gave a nod. “Course, Rob.”

With another quick kiss Steve disappeared into the locker room and Bucky sat down on a bench next to the door, which was Sam’s cue to kick himself off the wall he had leaned against and come over to sit down at Bucky’s side.

“Hiya, team seems to love you. I don’t see no tension because you and Steve are married. Guess it’s just the sponsors then.”

Bucky snorted. “It’s always the sponsors, isn’t it? The more money, the more they fear losing that money. The team’s been great to me ever since I first met them. None of them ever gave me any trouble. See, this is why I don’t understand where Tony is coming from. Or well, I do understand. Meet&Greets with a potentially single hetero guy sell better than with a married homo. It’s just… I feel so… I am kind of… I don’t know.”

“You are caught up in between. You know what the best thing would be for Steve. And that it is not the same thing as doing the best thing for his career. And this is where I am also sitting right now. I know, careerwise, they are right. But I know that - personally, ethically, as human beings – they are so far off everything that is good and holy. I like you, I like who Steve has become after you guys got married. I had my doubts, you know that, but you were the best thing that happened to Steve since he signed that contract with the Pats. Maybe even better than that. I don’t want him to feel guilty for being happy, you know?”

“I do. Better than I want to. But how bad is it? Did you have a chance to have a closer look at the paperwork?”

“I did. And it’s bad. They basically want to act like you don’t exist and there is a clause that if one of their law benders got their fingers on, could mean that he could possibly be obligated to go out with people to get papped. It’s not explicit, but the implication is there.”

“So, what do you do?”

“We are in this together, we are a team. So the question is, what are we going to do. And I don’t know the answer right now, I'm sorry, James.” Sam buried his head in his hands and then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Ugh, call me Bucky, please.”

Sam chuckled, reminded of their first conversation when he had addressed Bucky as Mr. Barnes-Rogers. “Well, I always called you this with Steve, but we never really… we never really talked about how I should call you to your face. Or maybe we did, but at that time you were still Mr. Barnes-Rogers, walking PR catastrophe. And by now, I was so socially awkward that I thought, I should probably just go with your given name.”

“There are only two people in the world who call me James, one is Nat and the other one Steve’s landlady whenever I track dirt into her house.”

Sam gave a short laugh. “But yeah, we have to go over that contract and let our legal staff propose some fixes to the points we don’t agree on and then their team is going to tell us if they want to compromise or if we have to find the Captain a new crew. Nothing much we can do right now.”

“Sam…”, Bucky’s voice was hesitant, “The Patriots are not a franchise you easily turn your back on, are they? If they offer you a contract, you’re expected to take it, isn’t that so?”

“That’s usually how it works. Eyebrows would probably be raised if Steve didn’t want to extend his contract without any obvious reason. I want to be honest with you.”

"Oh dear, Sam, the Patriots are great, but they are not everything there is to football." A voice came from behind. Bucky had never heard that accent before and when he turned around, he saw a guy with an enviably easy grace that oozed cool. Not to mention that he was one of the most attractive guys Bucky had seen in ages that wasn't Steve. He came over to the two of them and Sam rolled his eyes.

"One of these days, you're gonna give me a heart attack, sneeking up on me all the time. And stop with the swagger already, it's making me look so boring beside you." He nudged T'Challa in the side, but the dude just smirked.

"T'challa, quarterback for the Carolina Panthers. And who are you?"

"Bucky. Name's Bucky. I'm just here for my tightend. My husband, I meant to say my husband." He almost facepalmed himself. How did T'Challa make him so nervous?

"I can definitely see that tightend on you. Pity, I don't swing that way. You're Rogers' husband, right?"

"Well, I already said tightend, and Gronk doesn't seem to swing my way, either."

"Touché." T'challa chuckled. "Anyway, from what I just heard, the rumours are true and Steve has trouble getting his contract renewed?"

Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'm not at liberty to discuss this matter with you, I'm afraid."

T'Challa looked from Sam to Bucky's concerned face that told him everything he needed to know. "Relax Sam, I'm not officially inquiring. But if - however - Steve were to change teams, you don't need to worry your pretty little mind, Bucky, there's a lot of teams out there ready to take on a player of Steve's talent. And let me tell you one thing: most of them would even pay better than the Patriots."

"What?" Bucky frowned.

"I'm not saying the Patriots are screwing people over, but they have very specific ideas of how the game has to be played and what they pay their players for the honour of playing for their brand. This was just the beginning of Steve's career, and it was a great one and it might seem that nothing can top that, but believe me, there are a lot of things other teams can provide that are worth more than playing for a well-known name. Even Amendola lived after he transfered to the Dolphins."

Sam gave a nod. "That's true. But the Patriots were the one's to take a chance on Steve, and Steve is as loyal as they come."

"Question is, is it worth it being loyal to a team that'd drop you if you don't dance to their tune? Consider this. Anyway, nice meeting you, Bucky, I'm gonna go greet the guys and thank them for the fair game."

Bucky extended a hand and even though T'Challa first looked at it a little confused, he went on to shake it. "Nice meeting you, too."

"Sam, you wanna go meet up afterwards? I'd love to get your opinion on something." T'Challa asked.

"You still considering getting a cat?"

"Very funny, Sam. That was one Halloween! Once. And I was drunk."

"You'll never live this down, though!" Sam laughed. "Never."


	3. Los Angeles Chargers at New England Patriots

Bucky had talked to Steve and Sam about the contract negotiations, but neither had wanted to tell him, how bad it really was. That, in turn, let him assume that it was going really really badly. So at one point, he just stopped asking, because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. And he didn’t want to talk about it on whatsapp. So, he just tried to keep himself busy on the other side of the country.  
  
Keeping busy in this case meant him, his couch, and Netflix. There were only a few things he and Steve had different opinions on, but tv shows was one of them. Whereas Steve was into drama like House of Cards or Homeland, Bucky could spend whole afternoons binge-watching shows like iZombie or Friends. Right now, he had enough drama in his own life. Not to get him wrong, drama could be cool, at the right time and in the right place, but right now, neither rolled around. So he had made it a habit to watch comedies. And that was exactly what he did when he suddenly heard the soft padding of feet on the carpet in his hallway. He shot up straight right away and tried to switch off the tv as quickly as possible. A few moments later, Clint’s head appeared in the door to the living room.  
  
“Hi Buck.” Clint just said and let himself drop down onto the couch where Bucky sat just a few moments ago.  
  
“Clint? What are you doing here?” Bucky’s heart was still beating 100 miles per hour and that could definitely be counted toward his weekly cardio regimen, but he sat back down next to Clint.  
  
Clint shrugged. “Well, it’s Sunday and an away game. So, I thought we could watch the game together.”  
  
“Did Nat kick you out of the apartment?” Bucky asked, rolling his eyes.  
  
Clint grinned. “Maybe? Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you?”  
  
“Very likely story.” Bucky sneered. Then again, maybe hanging with Clint was a better idea than watching Ross dressing up as an Armadillo for the third time. “You bring any beer?” he asked.  
  
Clint shook his head. “No time to grab anything. But I could order us a pizza.”

  


Twenty minutes later, they were watching the second half of the game, devouring a large pizza, Clint dropping unwanted knowledge on Bucky. Bucky didn’t mind, though, he just smiled and nodded and watched his husband. But after a while he was getting slightly worried. Steve didn’t seem to be himself today, he fumbled a ball, was knocked down several times by a big defense guy from the Vikings and even managed to trip over his own feet.  
  
“Clint, what the fuck is going on with my husband? He’s missing passes left and right and he didn’t get into the endzone once since we started watching.”  
  
Clint shrugged. “Shouldn't you know? They still haven’t come to an agreement on his new contract. And nobody really knows why, because it’s not that Rogers wants too much money, there is something else…Dude, you know him better than me, don’t you know, what that contract problem is?”  
  
Bucky sighed dramatically. “I do, but I can’t tell you. Otherwise, I’d have to shoot you.”  
  
Clint looked at him. “You know me, dude, and you know I am not going to tell anyone anything and even if I do, they won’t believe me.”  
  
“Yeah, but you’ll tell Nat and people tend to believe her.”  
  
“But Nat can keep a secret.”  
  
“Maybe I should talk to her.” Bucky acted like he was seriously considering that option, but then Clint snorted.  
  
“As soon as you mention football or your husband, she won’t wanna talk to you, anyway.”  
  
“You might be right. But you really wanna know? The problem is me.”  
  
Clint’s eyes widened. “You serious?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“That sucks.”  
  
“You don’t say?”  
  
Bucky glanced at the screen. Clint didn’t seem to have anything to add. And he didn’t want to think about the whole disaster anyway.  
  
“Who’s that ridiculously handsome blonde guy there?” Bucky looked at the blond Vikings player that had just mowed his husband off his feet. Once again. By now the Patriots were lagging behind in points.  
  
“Oh, that’s Thor. At least that’s what they call him. He’s striking fast as lightning and when he makes impact the crash is thundering. His real name’s something simple like Chris Olsen or whatdoyouknow.”  
  
“The Vikings have great team morale, don’t they? They seem to have a cool team spirit.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s why there’s a lot of Vikings fans out there, too. And why they are so successful. You know, the Patriots are not the only cool team in the NFL.”  
  
“He’s cute.” Bucky said with a grin on his face to change the subject.  
  
“He probably just broke your husband’s legs, but other than that, go ahead with the heart eyes.” Clint said, eyeing the guy on the screen. There was a moment’s silence, then:  
“Buckaroo?”  
  
“Clint?”  
  
“I never knew you were gay until that revelation and your marriage and stuff.”  
  
“And your question is?”  
  
“Why didn’t I know? I mean, I feel, like, totally stupid that I never even noticed that you never dated anyone in all those years we’ve known each other.”  
  
“Well, you didn’t even notice that you put on two different socks this morning. And I’m not the kind of guy who likes to talk about his relationships too much. Especially, when they’re new. And most of the relationships I’ve had over the years went down the drain before I had even considered introducing them to you guys.” Bucky shrugged. In all honesty, he had had a couple of one night stands and dated one girl, but he really did not want to go deeper into the issue of his sexuality with Clint. Especially when that one girl had been…well, Clint’s …whatever Nat was to Clint. But one thing was true, he liked to keep his relationships to himself, because as Taylor Swift had put so nicely “loose lips sink ships”.  
  
Another moment of silence. Then:  
  
“Bucky?”  
  
“Yes, Clint?”  
  
“Did you ever find me appealing?”  
  
Bucky snorted loudly and broke into laughter, unable to regain his countenance for a couple seconds. Then he wiped away the tears of laughter he had spilled and said in between gasping breaths:  
“My dear friend, I love you as a human being, but I could never fall in love with the walking catastrohe you are. You are one of the greatest guys I know, but I’d rip your head off in no time if we were in a relationship.”  
  
Clint made a face, then he gave a nod. “I get that a lot.”  
  
“You don’t say.”  
  
“I just did.”  
  
The Patriots lost the first time this season, which brought up a lot of discussion about Steve’s performance that day. Many blamed the added stress of the contract negotiations; no one knew what exactly held them up. And Bucky’s resolution to spend an afternoon not thinking about the drama in his own life went out the window. He took to the internet. He had to find out what people were saying. And what the implications were if Steve didn’t get to stay on his team.  


*

  
He had been surfing the internet for hours, or that was what it felt like going through the testosterone-filled online-forums on the NFL and the Patriots. And in the end he had ended up on tumblr, of all sites. But when he searched for Steve Rogers in the tags, he found something else entirely.

Here were the missing photos, the press would not print. Here were the pictures of him and Steve kissing in the parking lot at Crossfit LA, here were the fan theories as to what might actually be the hold-up in Steve’s contract negotiations, here were the right conclusions, here was the support from people who looked up to Steve no matter what. Here was the support from people who had been in similar situations, if not the same and on a smaller scale. Here was everything the papers would not write about, because it could possibly make Steve less of an asset. And when Bucky had said that he liked his relationships private, he had not thought of the nice things people might have to say about him. He had always been afraid of angry people calling him names, but here they were actually complimenting him, saying how much courage it must have taken him to enter this relationship. He was only a small step away from writing that all it had taken had been a bottle of over-priced whiskey, but he thought that might be self-depreciating and not the right message. He wanted to be the person they saw in him and suddenly he understood Steve. Those were the people Steve had thought of when he had discussed publicly coming out. Bucky still thought that it would bring on a shit storm, but now he saw that there would quite possibly be a few kids who might be able to find hope through their example. He looked at one of the pictures of them, holding hands as they were walking along the beach, and he couldn’t help but smile. He would go full-on Meatloaf, he would do anything for their love. He saved the pic and set it as his screensaver.  


*

  
Steve took a deep breath before he pushed down the door handle to the conference room. After today, it would probably be over. Tonight he could hold Bucky in his arms and know where their future would be headed. At least that was what he was hoping for. When Steve looked around the long, white table, he saw Sam’s face and he knew that this would not go as they had hoped. He was faced by three lawyers in dark suits and Tony Stark in purple. Under different circumstances, Steve might have thought Tony’s extravagant style choice funny, but now he tried hard to not resent the man who lived a less than representative life and still tried to tell him how to behave as a role model. Swallowing against the rising knot in his throat, he sat down.

“Steve, great to see you, old friend, maybe you can bring some sense to the table. I mean, you do want to keep playing with the Patriots, don’t you?”

“Hello Tony”, Steve forced himself to meet Tony’s eyes across the table, “Of course I would love to stay in New England, but the thing is, I cannot accept the conditions concerning my married life. In my humble opinion, it feels intrusive that the contract even touches on my private life.”

“I understand, but you have to see our side of the problem, our shareholders, as Mr.Ross explained in our last meeting…”

“Actually Tony, let me cut in here, I do not see a problem. I am married. Yes, I am married to a man. But the team accepts him and I have no affairs or scandals or anything.”

“But your marketing value…”

“I can't hear that word any more, Tony! What about my value as a part of the team? What about my stats? Don’t they speak for themselves?”

“Not in this time and age, Steve, no. So, if you could please just sign this damned contract and let us get on with the touchdowns and things!” Tony sat back and looked exasperated. He sighed. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, but I am bound by contracts as well. We just signed a contract with our shareholders about our further opportunities to market players with high profiles and…”

Steve folded his hands and leaned forward. “So, we’re here again. All this boils down to is money. But to me, the question all this comes down to, is this: are you willing to cut us a compromise or not?”

“Steve, we cannot compromise. I have my own responsibilities to consider and…” Tony began, raising his hands.

But Sam wouldn’t have another trip on the same merry-go-round they’d been riding for weeks by now. He sighed. “Yes or no, Mr. Stark?”

“It is a no, we are not going to deviate from what has been written in this contract. If your client is not willing to sign the contract we drew up, he is free to leave the team after the end of this season.” a guy Steve thought of as ‘lawyer number 1’ said.

Steve got out of his seat. “Well, that was a brief meeting, but at least we’ve come to a conclusion. It was great playing for the Patriots, but next season won’t see me in New England. Thank you for your time, gentlemen, and…”

Tony jumped to his feet. “Steve, come on, you can’t be that stubborn!”

“And you cannot be that cold and business-fixated. But let’s not start with the name calling, okay?” Steve’s jaw started to clench slightly, his hands balled up in fists at his sides.

“I would have never thought you a deserter, Steve. I had trust in you, I picked you when no other team wanted you. I made you who you are today, I made you great. Without my help, you would not be Captain America today.” Tony’s voice rose and became shriller toward the end. This would not be pretty. But it was like a car crash. Sam did not want to watch, but he had to.

He could see Steve’s shoulders drop. Could hear him sigh. “No, you are right, Tony, I would not be Captain America, but you know what? You can keep Captain America, if you love him so much. The thing is, I was never that guy. I am a good football player, maybe a great one, with an amazing team. And yes, you did trust me, when you picked me. But you already got a Superbowl out of that trust. And you got one thing really, really wrong”, Steve leaned over the table, his shoulders hunched forward, drawn toward Tony. Sam got slightly scared, when he saw the scowl on Steve’s face, even more so when he heard his calm voice go on, cutting the next words he said sharply into the air between the two men: “It was the team, Tony. It was the team that made me into the player that I am today. They gave me confidence and friendship. It was the coaches. They took my ability, formed it, let it grow, and made me into a better player. You? I haven’t seen you after the draft pick pictures until I scored my first touchdown. You did not even greet me in the hallways before I proved my worth as a player in the field. Don’t tell me, you made me, when all you were there for were the pretty smiles in the pictures they plaster across the sports pages and newspaper covers.”

There could have been a kicked-over chair or a slammed door, but there wasn’t. As composed as he had been when he had basically told Tony to go do stuff to himself, Steve also left the room. He placed his chair neatly and silently at the table and closed the door softly behind himself. Sam looked astonished from the mildly surprised lawyers, who acted like they hadn’t heard Steve’s monologue, to Tony, who was positively furious.

“So, I guess we’re done here. Thank you so much for the coffee, guys.” He packed his papers and hurried out of the room just as Tony banged his fist on the table. “Shit!”

“We took a calculated risk, sir.” Another one of the three lawyers said.

“Well, maybe you should brush up your math skills.” Tony said, his head buried in his hands, just as Sam closed the door.  


He hurried after Steve. “Hey big guy, wait up!”  
  
Steve jerked to a hold. Then he slammed his fist into the innocent white wall beside him. “That pretentious asshole. That jerk. The nerve!!! Did you hear what he said?”  
  
“I did. It’s the usual guilting someone into staying, but you did good. Do you script these things or do you just pull them off the top of your head? Because I still need a speech written for my grandma’s 85th birthday.”  
  
Steve chuckled despite himself. “Oh Sam, what would I do without you?”  
  
“Well, right now, you’d probably try to beat up that wall. And I must say, I’m not even sure who’d win.”  
  
“I think I might have sprained my knuckles. It looks kinda cool in the movies, but actually, it hurts a lot.” Steve shrugged.  
  
“So, I guess, we need to find you a new home for the next season.” Sam tried to say as lightheartedly as possible.  
  
“I guess so.”  
  
“Preferably at the West Coast?”  
  
“Not necessarily. Just one, where they’ll accept Bucky as part of the deal.” Steve said and looked at Sam, some hope glinting in his eyes. Sam hadn’t seen hope for a while now and was happy to have it back. He suddenly thought of something.  
  
“Have you ever heard about Instagram?”  
  
“Yeah. Got an account. Don’t really use it. Howcome?”  
  
“We need to talk to Bucky. But I’d say it’s time to get you on the social media train. In case he’s okay with that.”  


*

  
When Steve got home, he found Bucky in an actual apron kneeling in front of the oven, watching something inside. As he heard the door, he turned around and a broad grin blossomed on his face.

“Welcome home, honey, I made dinner.”

Steve looked from Bucky to the oven and back to his husband. “This is not refrigerator pizza, is it?”

“No, I made a casserole. Like, I was thinking about Brooklyn and the stuff we used to eat back then and your mom, she used to do this mac’n cheese casserole thing with minced meat. Do you remember? We loved this stuff and I found a recipe!” He was all smiles getting up and hugging Steve.

Steve beamed at Bucky, but there was some melancholy in his smile. “Yeah. Yeah, we did. And she always laughed about the amounts of ketchup we drowned it in. Geez, Bucky, I haven’t thought about this in forever. Just imagine what she would say to us if she could see us now.”

“She’d probably tell you to get a fire extinguisher in case I make it a habit to cook.”

Steve laughed lightheartedly and hugged Bucky closer to his chest, burrying his nose in his long hair. He was probably right. His mother had always had that dark humour, and she probably wouldn’t be too surprised to find out he got married to Bucky. She had always been supportive of their friendship and when Steve had first suspected that he might be in love with his best friend, it had been her, he had told. All she said was to follow his heart. And that Bucky was a good guy. Steve inhaled deeply and the scent of his husband and the casserole filled his nose. He was home and he instantly knew he had made the right decision.

“I won’t be playing for the Patriots next season.” He whispered into Bucky’s long hair.

Bucky let go of him and looked into his face. “And is this good or bad?” he asked hesitantly.

“The best, because all the same what happens now, I get to keep you and I don’t have to pretend to be someone that I am not.”

Bucky nodded. “But it all came down to me, right?”

“Yes. And no. It was mostly about my personal freedom. But anyway, to be quite honest, even if no team in the NFL would wanna touch me after this, I probably made enough money to live a really comfortable life even if I would work as a cashier at Walmart to cover for the bare necessities.”

“You mean to tell me that two seasons in the NFL and you could basically retire?”

“If I wanted to and used my money smart? Yes.”

“But you still want to play, right? I don’t get a boring housespouse who doesn’t do anything but housework and gossip with the neighbours?” Bucky asked.

“You make it sound really sweet, but no. I would probably bore myself to death. Sam is already getting in touch with other teams. He asked me if I preferred West Coast Teams, but I told him I’d be happy to take any team that wants me by now. And this is working, right? Maybe it’s not perfect, but it works.”

Bucky smiled at him. “This is fine. I mean, you won’t be playing until you’re 63 and I could always move if we don’t want to do the long distance thing again. The reunion sex is always great, too.”

Steve crinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?” The two of them looked over to the oven, then Bucky sprinted over and saved the casserole from a burning fate.  


*

  
In their game against the Chargers, Steve was himself again and the Patriots won by the widest margin all season. It was a beautiful game to watch, even for an amateur couch-athlete like Bucky. So, as always, Bucky went to the locker rooms, to congratulate the team and his husband. Everybody high-fived, hugged or slapped him on the behind, before making their way to the changing rooms. When Gronk saw him, he shook his head.

“Should have come to last week’s game, lucky charm. I’ll only call you Lucky from now on.”

Bucky snorted. “Maybe it helps if I rub my toes before the away games.”

“Worth a shot, bro.” Again a breathtaking hug by Gronk. He’d miss those. Then Rob disappeared into his locker room. One more time Bucky sat down beside the door and waited for Steve to be done with the debrief, victory chorusses and his shower. This had become his routine by now.

The only thing different this time was Tony storming down the corridor and speeding up when he saw Bucky sitting there. Bucky made a gesture to greet Tony, but as he drew closer, he could see the anger raging on his face.

“You! You asshole just couldn’t stay away!”

Bucky got up, first speechless, but as words returned to him, he got angry. “Excuse me, what?!”

“You fucking asshole, you fag!”

“Hold on a minute, are you trying to insult me? You of all people? The guy with the ridiculous suits and the even more ridiculous sunglasses?”

“You goddamn gold digger had to steal one of my best players away! Just because Rogers couldn’t keep it in his pants and had to marry a guy like you.”

Bucky didn’t even raise his voice. “I guess your biggest problem is that he married a guy, right? Why not say it that way? Why get insulting, when all you wanna say is that you are a homophobic misanthropist only interested in making money? Because that seems to be the underlying problem, as I see it.”

Tony’s sunglasses slipped a little down his nose as he violently shook his head. Bucky could see his blood shot eyes surrounded by deep dark circles. Tony looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

His voice sounded equally tired as he said: “My problem is that you just won’t go away, you endanger everything my father has worked for so hard! You could be destroying everything my father built just because you are too fucking stubborn to see that good marketing needs sacrifices!” The door to the locker room had silently opened and some of the players had started watching the exchange that went on in the hallway, some of them were getting Steve from the showers. All of them looked at the angry, dark red face of Tony Stark, adorned by slightly lopsided blue sunglasses.

“First of all, your father built way more than just a money making team. Secondly, you are doing a rather good job of destroying it all by yourself. Lastly, and most importantly, there are things way more important than money in this life. And if you can’t see that, Mr. Stark, if all you got and all you see in your father’s legacy is money, then sorry, you are full-on broke.” His voice didn’t waiver, it didn’t rise or fall in volume. And the most infuriating thing in Tony’s eyes was that he could see by the look on the guy’s face that he meant it and felt pity for him. He felt pity for Tony Stark. It was almost too much, but then he heard a single slow clap that grew into more louder claps and was joined by many others. As he looked up, he could see some of the players in the door of the changing rooms, most of them wearing nothing but a towel. Between them was Rogers, staring at him with a cold fury in his eyes. When he looked back at Barnes, he could see that he didn’t feel comfortable under all the eyes on him. But then their eyes met.

“That was not what I intended”, Barnes said softly, “but maybe you should think about your priorities and values before asking a player to hide and deny a part of his private life. Maybe think a little on this before selling your soul to the devil for dough.” Barnes told his husband to meet him outside before he turned on his heel and left. He just left Tony standing there in the hallway, feeling small and ridiculed. How did he dare to take on Forbes magazine’s Man of the Year? Then again, maybe he had a point, Tony thought, feeling incredibly tired.


	4. New York Jets at New England Patriots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Tony might have unleashed an uncivil war...

Whatsapp.  
S.: Tony’s gone berserk now. Gee, I’m so tired of fighting all the time. Looking forward to the weekend, though.  
  
B.: Tell him to go fuck his money. Can you do that? Or maybe cuddle his sunglasses.  
  
S.: You really don’t like his sunglasses, did you?  
  
B.: He literally never takes them off. Makes you wonder if he’s hungover all the time.  
  
S.: He just gets an enormous amount of pressure from the shareholders, poor guy looks like he hasn’t slept in months. Anyway, how are you holding up?  
  
B.: Leave it to you to have compassion with a guy like that. But I’m great. Nat made me do stunt work for some teenage horror crap movie. Was good though, I got to beat the shit out of a sandbag for work. And then I was allowed to blow up some stuff. Or well, act like it was me who blows it up. But it’s only good acting when you convince yourself that you did it.  
  
S.: Sounds like a good week.  
  
B.: Oh yeah! Did I mention there was stuff blowing up? :D  
  
B.: Steve… I need to tell you something, I’ve been thinking about for a while now…  
  
S.: What is it?  
  
B.: You know, few weeks back, when you had that really bad game…  
  
S.: Please don’t tell me you want to divorce me because of one bad game.  
  
B.: Steve…could you be serious for a second, you doofus?  
  
S.: “Doofus”?! XD  
  
B.: Yes, Doofus. Anyway, I googled the internet for stuff on you…  
  
S.: You found the clown porn I made before I was famous!  
  
B.: Steve! This is serious.  
  
S.: Nothing is as serious as clown porn.  
  
B.: You know what? Maybe I want this divorce after all.  
  
S.: No, honey, sorry, I will behave!  
  
B.: I hope so. What I meant to say… there are fan pages on tumblr about us. There are people shipping us.  
  
S.: Like with UPS?  
  
B.: No, like, they want us to be together.  
  
S.: But we are together.  
  
B.: Yes, but they don’t even know that for sure!!! And this is what I wanted to talk to you about. There are gay teenagers out there, looking up to you, seeing you as a role model. I think if you don’t have to deny this stuff anymore…those people would be worth coming out for. You know?  
  
S.: There’s a lot of haters, too. You do realise that? You will probably get a lot of hate as well. You will be in the spotlight a lot.  
  
B.: I know. This is why I’m only talking about this now, I needed time to think. But I do believe that if we can help only one teenager out there, it might be worth all the hate.  
  
S.: Oh Bucky…you do know you are opening Pandorra’s box? We can’t take this back, once it’s out. The thing with the jumping out of the plane without a parachute. That’s what you’re proposing right now.  
  
B.: I know. But I love you. I’d tell the whole world I love you. Talk about shouting it from the rooftops.  
  
S.: What about your ‘loose lips sink ships’ philosophy?  
  
B.: Well, we can sink the ship if we have life vests and an island to swim to.  
  
S.: You love your metaphors, don’t you?  
  
B.: I love you more. What I mean is, we know the situation and we are good at communication. We have a stable base. I think we can weather the storm.  
  
S.: Metaphor boy gets metaphory again.  
  
B.: That’s not even a word, Dumbo.  
  
S.: We should watch Disney movies, when you’re in Boston.  
  
B.: Okay. But please don’t do anything stupid until I get there.  
  
S.: I won’t.  
  
B.: And talk to Sam before you do it.  
  
S.: Do what?  
  
B.: The stupid. Because you will want to do something stupid. I know you.  
  
S.: I promise.  
  
B.: To do something stupid or to talk to Sam?  
  
S.: Both.  
  
B.: I love you.  
  
S.: I know.  
  
B.: Nerd.  
  
S.: Punk.  
  
B.: Jerk.  
  
S.: Love of my life.  
  
B.: Sap.  


*

  
Bucky’s phone buzzed as soon as he got off the plane. Who the heck actually called him? And that in exactly the moment he got off the plane?  
“Barnes, who’s there?”

“You mean Barnes-Rogers. It’s me, you know who I am, Mr. Barnes-Rogers.”

“What’s up, Wilson?”

“Just wanted to tell you to not just hop on the subway, I’m here to pick you up. Waiting for you after the baggage claim.”

“Oh, what an honor. I’ll try not to sweep by you.”

“I’m the goodlooking guy in the sunglasses, can’t miss me.”

“I know, darling. See ya.” He ended the call and as he did not have any luggage to claim, he saw Sam only a couple of minutes later.

After he had plopped down into the passenger seat of the car next to Sam, Bucky looked over at him and frowned.

“So, you just decided to pick me up?”

Sam shrugged. “Steve’s at training. Thought it was a nice gesture. Also, when Steve returns, I have some news for the two of you.”

He pulled out of the parking lot and they started to make their drive toward the city in an awkward silence before Sam sighed.

“Hey, you wanna grab something to eat? I need to talk to you and it might take a little longer than the drive to your apartment.”

“I love how you said ‘your’ apartment.” Bucky said, caught a little off guard.

Sam glanced over quickly and saw the small smile playing with Bucky’s lips. “It’s just how I thought of it. Now that you mention it, it might be odd. But then again…nah. Anyhow, you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry.” Bucky grinned.  


When they sat down in Joe’s American Grill, Sam looked at Bucky taking the menu. “If you only take a salad now, I’m going to hate you forever.”  
  
“Are you kidding? Have you seen the burgers they just delivered to the table in the back? I’m not gonna waste my time, stomach capacity and money on salads!” Bucky looked almost offended at Sam’s statement.  
  
“Good boy. I might really come to like you.”  
  
“Nice try, what did you wanna talk about? Maybe I can start liking you after the business side of things is done.” Bucky smiled, to take the edge of the statement, as Sam sighed.  
  
“Steve told me, you guys wanted to go public with your relationship, is that true?”  
  
“Yeah, Steve tried to tell me, I wouldn’t like it, but I think I could take it.”  
  
“So, I leaked a few photos to the press. You meeting Steve after the games in front of the changing rooms, holding hands, that picture from the parking lot… turns out, they are not gonna release these things.”  
  
Bucky looked at Sam, his forehead scrunched up heavily. “But why? They are reporters, isn’t it their job to…I don’t know, report?”  
  
Sam gave a curt nod. “It is, but they have been asked to not touch that subject. At all. And with most of those in Stark’s hands, they are not going to. At least not until Stark tells them otherwise.”  
  
“Isn’t that like…interfering with free press and stuff?”  
  
“Doesn’t matter. He has the money and he has a watchful eye on the things making him more money, so he has the power. But… he does not control the social media. And that's where I come in!”  
  
Bucky frowned. “I’m not sure if I want to know what’s coming next with you looking this excited.” Bucky deadpanned.  
  
“I made a tumblr-blog!”  
  
“You…”, Bucky coughed, “You made a tumblr-blog?”  
  
“Yes! And I have been posting all those little things about you, like where you met, and what happened in Vegas…”  
  
“Not even I know a hundred percent what happened in Vegas.” Bucky deadpanned again.  
  
Sam didn't even get into it. “And I posted photos, evidence that you really are a couple. I even got a shot of you wearing your wedding rings.”  
  
“So, you’re shipping us on tumblr.” Bucky tried hard to not burst out in laughter.  
  
“Hardcore-shipping you.”  
  
It was too much. Bucky just started laughing at the idea of Sam sitting on his bed and posting romantic stuff about him and Steve.  
  
“What’s so funny, I already got like 250 followers!” Sam said, almost a little disappointed.  
  
“Well, can’t you see? You are so much more than just Steve’s fucking manager. You’re probably his best friend and his cheerleader and…is there anything you wouldn’t do for him?”  
  
“Well, I was about to quit once, you know? When that dude went and got hitched to some random guy in Vegas? After that, I was in too deep.”  
  
“God, I love you, Sam. You’re probably the best guy Steve could wish for in his corner.”  
  
Sam got a little red. “Thanks, I guess.” He scratched the back of his head a little and looked around the restaurant, trying not to meet Bucky’s eyes.  
  
“So, do you ever write posts about our sex life?”  
  
“Bucky!”  
  
“What? Just asking here. What’s your blog’s name? I’d love to see your work. Maybe I can help you create content.”  
  
“It’s stucky-is-reel. With two ee, because the other url has already been in use.”  
  
Bucky tried hard not to laugh. “You’re great, really, you are. Totally bonkers, but you are great.”  
  
“About that content, though. Would you and Steve maybe have sex in public now? Maybe almost get arrested for it? That might even make the mainstream media coverage.”

  


*

  
As they walked down Newbury Street towards the apartment, Bucky looked at his phone to check the time.

“Cool, Steve should be back from training and showered by now. Probably wondering where we are.”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, I gave him a heads up that we’d stop by some restaurant. He’s probably taking a nap or something.”

“Sam, how bad could this going official thing go, if we are talking worst case scenario?” Bucky suddenly blurted out.

The first sign was that Sam wouldn’t meet his gaze. Then he drew up his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets. Then he sighed. “Honestly? I got know idea. It could be just a couple days and a few articles and then they move on to more important subjects. But it could also blow totally out of proportion and you could be followed by photographers everywhere you go, receiving hate-mail, maybe deaththreats. Could be anything on that spectrum. I guess where it lands will also be dependent on Stark’s reaction. But there are too many variables in this to be sure.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“As long as you and Steve stick together? No. As soon as either of you starts believing the press? Deeply.”

“So, we’re in for a rollercoaster ride.”

“We’re talking Cyclone here, mother of all rollercoasters.”

“Ah, come on, the Cyclone ain’t that bad.” Bucky replied.

“Just ask your husband what he thinks of it.” A chuckle escaped Sam, and Bucky fell into a deep, throaty laugh, just as they reached the front door. Bucky greeted Myrtle who was watering the plants in front of the entrance and looked pretty happy today. The old lady wore a flowery dress and a straw hat against the sun, apparently enjoying the uncharacteristically warm weather at this time of the year. She gave Sam the quick up-down-up and smiled at him. “Where does Steve find all you strapping young men?” she asked in a light tone, which still made Sam blush.

“I’m Sam, I’m Steve’s manager. Nice to meet you, Mrs…”

“Myrtle, just Myrtle. And if you are his manager, just get him onto another team. That man has ruined and tried to ruin many a career for money and power.”

Bucky and Sam frowned and it was Bucky who asked: “Tony Stark?”

Myrtle shook his head. “No, I’m talking about that head of marketing and shareholder, Thaddeus Ross. He pressured Tony into signing a contract Tony could not anticipate the legal aftermath of. Tony is a good man at heart, but his weakness is his father’s legacy. He’d do everything to do well in the eyes of the late Howard Stark. And they exploited that. Now Tony is scarcely more than a puppet on a few contractual strings. He just doesn’t see it yet.”

Sam looked at Myrtle in awe. “How do you know about that? I could not for the life of me get my hands on some of the contracts and I am supposed to know this stuff.”

“You know, why my grandson isn’t living in that apartment of yours anymore?”

“You mean Steve’s apartment?” Bucky replied almost automatically.

“Ah don’t fool yourself, son, it’s your apartment just as much as it is Steve’s. My point is, my grandson played for the Patriots. He was so happy when he was able to live here with me, because he got on the Patriots’ team. But he sat on the bench a lot of the time. And when it finally was his time to shine, they made changes to the franchise’s legal structure and marketing in order to guarantee their shareholders a better pay-off. Not too long after that, the marketing team came sweeping down on my grandson. He’d need to look the part of the successful linebacker. Make a few girls fall in love with him. But most of all get a haircut. It sounds so silly in comparison, but he loved his long hair, he has always been so proud of it. And here his team told him the public didn’t like it, it didn’t look good in press photographs. Now my Chris, he asked Tony if his abilities as a player weren’t more important than his looks and that was when that man Everett, who for some reason sat in on the discussion, told him that he wasn’t that good yet and started to imply that he had problems with authority and team work. It took Chris quite some convincing to get onto another team, thanks to that snake. But he did. You might have heard of him, he goes by Thor these days.”

Bucky stared at her. “That…Thor is your grandson?? And here you go around calling us handsome?”

Sam shook his head in disbelief. “They wanted to cut Thor’s hair? Because they didn’t like it?”

Myrtle just shrugged. “It wasn't just about the hair, it was about power. And well, it only goes to show that he’s a fool, that Stark-boy. He’s not the bad guy, but be careful with him. Please be careful. And get Steve on a good team.” She rested her hand on Sam’s upper arm and looked into his eyes until he gave a nod.

“I’m working on it.” Sam smiled knowingly. Myrtle returned the smile and went on watering her plants.

“So, let’s get up to Steve and I’ll tell you what I’ve been wanting to tell the two of you all day!” Sam then said and grabbed Bucky by the shoulder. They had barely reached the front door of the apartment, when Steve already tore it open.

“I’ve been waiting for you guys for half an eternity. What’s going on?”

“Sam writes a tumblr-blog about us. He’s hardcore shipping us.” Bucky chuckled and went through into the living room part of the apartment where he just let himself fall onto the couch.

Steve looked a little confused. “Say what now?”

Sam shook his head. “Not important right now. Let’s go inside and you should probably sit down as well.”

Steve did as he was told and sat down beside Bucky on the dark brown leather couch that sat in the light flooded living room. He looked over at Bucky who smiled back at him.

“Did you know that Myrtle is Thor’s grandma?” Bucky asked bemusedly, putting his socked feet into Steve's lap, as he leaned back onto the arm rest, his back to the window, his figure framed in the golden afternoon sunlight.

For a moment Steve just looked at Bucky in his halo of sunlight, then he shrugged. “Yeah, he came to visit her once. Nice guy, a little rough around the edges, but loves his grandma so much.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Bucky whined.

“I did not know that you were interested in Thor. With you being married and him being in a relationship with that Harvard astrophysicist chick.” Steve chuckled. "But nice to know that you got a crush on him."

“I wouldn’t call it a crush. I just appreciate his aesthetic.” Bucky replied slightly deflated.

“Aaanyhow”, Sam interrupted, rolling his eyes: “Kind of fitting the subject, but not entirely related, I got a team that’s interested in Steve.”

Both heads turned to Sam in an instant.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?!” Steve asked, almost shocked. “That was fast. How many deals with the devil did it take you?”

Bucky remained silent. He felt anxious on Steve’s behalf.

Sam shrugged. “Well, actually, it didn’t take much work on my part. The bush drums are working far too well in the football world. Several teams already know that Steve is going to be a free agent after this season. And one team already contacted me.”

“Don’t do the casting show suspense thing, just tell us who!” Steve said half joking, half serious.

“You could be playing for the Vikings. Which is why I said fitting the subject.”

“Would be great to have Thor on my team and not tackle me every turn. Geez, that hurt.” He rubbed his ribs absentmindedly.

Bucky remained silent, as both faces turned toward him.

“You’re so silent, Bucks?” Steve’s utterance was somewhere between a question and a statement.

“It gets really cold in Minnesota.”

Sam snorted. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Well…”, Bucky hesitated, “I don’t know much about the politics and trades and business decisions in the NFL. But I guess there’s also going to be a few conditions and things and there’s going to be negotiations and everything. So, I’m trying not to get my hopes up too soon.”

Sam’s grin turned into a softer smile. “I already told them that Steve is openly gay and that this is part of his deal. They said as long as he does his job and doesn’t end up in the tabloids with a different guy each week, they are okay with it.”

He could see that Bucky still didn’t trust the offer, but Steve’s shoulders released some of their locked up tension right away.

“You’ll go about each and every offer like that? Leading with the statement that I am gay?” he asked.

Sam gave a curt nod. “They won’t be able to cancel the deal because of that when they knew all along.”  


This was the evening, when Steve first posted a picture of himself and Bucky cuddling on the couch, not leaving any doubt as to who they were to each other. Hashtag: LoveMyBeautifulHusband. It was also the evening before all hell broke loose.

  


*

  
“Rogers!...Steve…hold up for a minute.” Steve heard Tony Stark’s voice behind him as he made his way to the locker rooms before the game. He came to a stop and turned around, ready to sigh deeply.

“Tony? What’s up?” he felt his shoulders tense and his jaw clench.

“I got the call from your manager that you got an offer from the Vikings…” his voice trailed off.

“Yeah. They called him yesterday. What’s it to you?”

“I just… I hated how we parted ways last time. You have the potential to be an outstanding player. You could grow the Patriots’ legacy and grow with it, you could be…”

Steve shook his head only slightly, but it was enough to cut Tony off. “Tony, I am tired of this. I am tired to be Captain America, a part of a legacy that makes me deny one of the most important parts of my life. I am not going to lose myself to fit an all-American mold.”

“But Steve… you and the Patriots, it’s the stuff of legends.”

“Yeah, the stuff of legends, alright. But legends are rarely remembered for their humanity, because they are larger than life. And I would rather be a good and honest man than an expensive marketing trick.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I…it’s just…” Tony wrung his hands, then shook his head. He seemed honestly shaken. “I’m sorry.”

Steve gave him a nod. Something was different about Tony, but now he had to think of the game, not Tony. “It’s gonna be alright, suit dude.”

Before Tony could protest, Steve was in the locker rooms.  


This night’s game was the best game of his life so far. But when he and Bucky tried to leave the stadium, it was like nothing he had ever experienced; there were photographers everywhere and it felt like they had gotten stuck in a violent thunderstorm, with flashlights everywhere. Inexperienced as they were, they didn’t dare touch or shove any of the photographers and could not break through their waving mass. There were questions thrown at them from the crowd, of which Bucky only understood single words or short phrases.  
  
“…where did you…”  
  
“…when did you first…”  
  
“…meeting…”  
  
“…reason why you are leaving…”  
  
“…how does it feel…”  
  
“…openly gay football player…”  
  
“…find work?”

  


“Mr. Barnes, how does it feel to destroy your husband’s chances with one of the biggest franchises in the NFL?”  
  
Bucky came to a sudden halt and looked around wide-eyed. “WHAT?!?”

  


Steve tugged at his sleeve to go on, but Bucky wanted to know who the asshole was who had asked that question.  
  
“Okay, who of you asked that? Who of you…” a lot of that statement was beeped when it went through some of the sports news channels a couple of hours later. Before he could curse himself into a more serious situation, he felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s just get you out of here.” And with a sure hand and a lot of confidence, he got them to their getaway car.  
  
As the door closed, he sat down opposite them in the back of the van.  
  
“Turns out the Patriots' PR team cancelled the ban on the subject.The press is free to attack. Oh, and I bet they are going to spin this in a way that might not leave us looking too good.”  
  
Bucky sat there, brooding in silence. When Steve noticed the expression on his face, he hugged Bucky tightly to his side. “Hey, Buck! Don’t listen to them, it’s not your fault that I will no longer be playing for the Pats.”  
  
“It is, though, isn’t it? If it hadn’t been for me…” Steve could see Bucky shaking with pent up tension.  
  
“I’d have met somebody else at some point and we’d be in the same situation. Or they would have wanted me to dye my hair. Or whatever. This is about power, not about you.”  
  
Sam gave a short nod. “Not meeting you would have only postponed the inevitable. You’ve seen Stark, you know what we’re dealing with. You must realise that at some point, Stark would have found a way to piss Steve off.”  
  
Steve chuckled. “His sunglasses for example.”  
  
Bucky looked at Steve with weary eyes. “Today, I understood him for the first time. I would have given a lot for a decent pair of sunglasses.” he said in a little voice.  
  
Sam looked at Steve with concern. They had never seen this side of Bucky. When they arrived at Steve’s apartment building, they saw Myrtle, bodily dragging a photographer off the front lawn.  
  
“Get off my lawn, boy, I just watered these plants this afternoon!” and with a short blast of water from the garden hose, she chased him off. As Steve, Bucky and Sam left the van, she came over to them right away and ushered them into the building. “Come on in, boys, you really shouldn’t be out there right now. They’re going to take lord knows what kind of pictures.”  
  
Sam gave her a thankful clap on the back. “You might just be the best, Myrtle.”  
  
“Nah, don’t flatter me. I’ve just lived through one of these scandals once. You don’t get out of these without a couple of war strategies. I just hoped they’d leave you alone.”  
  
She glanced at Bucky. “My god, James, get that chin up proudly. You are the reason Steve doesn’t have to dance to those bigots' tune anymore. It’s a good thing he’s getting out of there now, Steve’s ratings have never been better! This was perfect timing.”  
  
Bucky looked at Myrtle and gave her a hug. And then he did something nobody anticipated, he started to sob, letting all the tension of the last hours and weeks flow from his system.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm off to see Infinity War now. Hope it doesn't scar me too much. Wish me luck...


	5. Bucky Barnes vs. the press

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finds coping mechanisms to deal with the press. And he finds out something about Steve.

**_Patriots claim: “He fooled us”_**  
_Is the formerly celebrated Captain America a liar? Yesterday evening he left the Gillette stadium with his husband, the world only got to know about the evening before in an Instagram post of the otherwise very private football hero. Apparently, the two of them got married in a rowdy Vegas wedding spectacle about a year ago, but without the knowledge of the Patriots, Steve Rogers’ employer._  
_“He never told us, he was married. I only found out, when we got offered some paparazzi shots of him and Mr. Barnes in Santa Monica. At that point, we had to think about the image of the team, which is why we bought the pictures. But he went behind our backs and we could not accept that, which is why his contract was not renewed.” A representative of the New England Patriots told us in a short statement via telephone this evening._  
_One can only speculate what kind of influence this affair might have on Steve Rogers’ relatively new career […]_  
  
Sam chuckled, when he read reactions to the news on twitter and tumblr.  
  
_“Get off your high horse, he never made this a secret, you did!”_ a user named stucky_baller commented.  
  
_“I hope he’ll get a more supportive team now that he doesn’t have to play for the fucking Patriots anymore. They suck anyway. How about the Rodgers-Rogers offense?”_ Paeckers_fan_93 wrote.  
  
_“Good riddance. Rogers will be better off on any other team in the NFL. Even with the Browns. Time to hit the big time!”_ not-the-pats-again opined.  
  
_“Their loss. Any other team’s gain. Why would you fire a good player for getting married. Homophobic shits!”_ nfl-nationalfootballlove thought.  
  
This was good for them. The fans still had his back. At least a lot of them. There had been the odd homophobic slur as well, but they were surprisingly far and inbetween. Still, the truth needed to find its way out there; Steve had never been keeping Bucky a secret, and the press and possible new employers needed to know that. So he had contacted their lawyer Sharon to ask the newspapers for a retraction of the articles which painted Steve Rogers as a liar, hotspurr, or troublemaker. He attached an email coming from Stark two weeks before the pictures in Santa Monica had been taken, which included the sentence “We’d love to welcome your new husband Mr. Barnes-Rogers to our homegames, whenever he has the time.” But getting the newspapers to actually print the retractions would be hard. He needed some other news to interest them, but he did not want to stoop down on Everett’s level and start to talk about the oppressing character of the new contract that had been offered to his client. Instead, he just mentioned that the Patroits did indeed offer his client a contract renewal and were bitter, because Steve had declined it.  
  
Bucky was a whole other story. He’d recovered from that first shock, but he barely ever left the house, out of fear that someone might take pictures of him or ask him inappropriate questions. It was as much self-preservation as it was concern as to how he would react should someone provoke him. He had decided to fly back to the Westcoast on Tuesday, in time to give his class on Russian Lit 101, but while there were no nosy Bostonians concerned with the well-being of their team, the press still followed him around. Bucky’s go-to tactic for inappropriate questions now was answering them by reciting Dostojewsky in Russian, after he had been called Captain America’s potty-mouthed sidekick in reaction to his swearing. What bothered him most was the “sidekick”, but that was just a little bother in a sea of trouble. Well, if they didn’t like his cursing, they’d have to make do with his Russian literature. The press made him into a Russian spy. By that point, Bucky was as amused by the stuff they wrote as he was angry about it. The worst thing was probably that they had started to host a stake out at his building, so anytime he wanted to go home or out, he had to fight through a crowd of paprazzi. At some point, he found one of them inside his building in his hallway just in front of his door. He called security, but that was it. He got in and dialled the one number he always dialled when he was in trouble or down or just needed someone to let a dead body disappear.  
  
“What’s up, James? Enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame?” Nat asked him in a mock gossip voice.  
  
He groaned. “It feels like fifteen years by now, to be honest. I just found one who would have probably tried to break into my apartment, had I arrived only a few minutes later. Why are they doing this to me, Nat? Isn’t there a pregnant Kardashian or a high model they can follow? I bet they hate me for stealing their thunder.”  
  
Nat gave a laugh. “Need a place to crash? I could kick Clint out for a couple of days. Or you could sleep on our couch. If you love dogs, that is. Our couch is occupied by three stray dogs by now.”  
  
“I love you, Nat. I’ll just get my stuff and come over.”  
  
Nat had saved his ass a few times since then, but she also loved to randomly say “Quick, duck, there’s one!”, and just burst out in laughter when Bucky tried to hide as fast as possible. But aside from that, his life had gotten a great deal more bearable. However, the tension had started to wear on him and Steve. They hadn’t talked since Bucky had left the East Coast, just a couple of whatsapp-messages had been exchanged. So, Bucky had no idea how Steve was doing and how he was dealing with the heightened media attention in Boston. But the lack of communication wasn’t all Bucky’s fault; what nobody had expected, was the fact that the university had had to close down Bucky’s email-account and shut off his desk phone at some point, because the public had been quick at finding his very public university contact details. Within days of the first article, Bucky’s mailbox had exploded and Nat swore she got a migraine from the constant ringing of his office phone. Even his private email had started to blow up. Not as badly, but he still considered switching accounts. There was no escaping people and their questions, Bucky quickly realised, as reporters started to catch on that he lived with Clint and Nat for the moment.  
  
Clint, however, was happy to provide the press with the most outlandish stories which really didn’t involve Bucky at all, but kept the reporters busy for hours before they eventually figured out that there was nothing to get from the guy who liked pizza and adopting strays. He did, however, get two of his strays a new owner and made friends with a young reporter named Kate Bishop. As every dog owner, Clint trusted his dogs judgement more than his own, and when pizza dog approved of Kate, Bucky just found her lounging in Nat’s and Clints living room one evening.  
  
“Hi…what…who…?” Clint and Nat were nowhere to be seen and Bucky had just let himself into their appartment, finding that young girl sitting on their couch. For a moment, he meant to check if he had the right appartment, but then he saw pizza dog.  
  
“Hi, I’m Kate. Clint let me in and told me, he had to show me something and then his slightly creepy roommate came in and asked him what he was up to taking in human strays and now they are in the kitchen debating whether they should keep me or not.” She made a face, then smiled at him.  
  
Bucky’s eyebrow rose almost out of its own accord. “Aaaand you’re not the least bit freaked out by that?”  
  
“I don’t really know if they were being serious about the ‘keeping her’-part, otherwise I’ve seen worse.”  
  
“Where did Clint pick you up?”  
  
“Oh, I am a reporter. He told us some bullshit story about Captain America’s husband being his best friend and what they did in their spare time and that the guy hated football and well, it was bullshit, but he was funny. And being the clutz that I am, I managed to fall over some guy’s equipment and Clint took care of my scraped elbow.” She smiled at Bucky. “You look familiar, do I know you?”  
  
Bucky shrugged and grimaced. “I don’t think so. I just got one of those faces, you know?” The funny thing about Clint was, even if he told them the truth, they didn’t believe him.  
  
“And do you know this Bucky Barnes-guy?” she then asked.  
  
Bucky shrugged again. “Not that well. But Clint is right, Barnes really never took any interest in football before he recognised his childhood best friend in a Patriots jersey.”  
  
“Oh, so they knew each other before?” She got out her note pad and a pen. Bucky thought about it for a moment, but maybe getting this side of the story out into the open would help.  
  
“Yeah, they were best friends in school, but then Barnes, who had lived with foster parents, was transferred to a military school. They were trouble makers, the two of them, and his foster family felt like they could not handle him too well, so they sent him away.”  
  
“And did they stay in contact?” Kate asked, watching his face carefully.  
  
“They tried to.” Bucky’s throat felt tight. That had been what all this came down to, right? “But they were only kids. So they lost each other pretty quickly in whatever it was life threw at them. Steve had to move when his mother died, and Barnes never found him again when he returned to Brooklyn. So, Barnes went to the military and got injured in service, while Rogers became a football hero.”  
  
“How did they meet again?”  
  
“In Vegas of all places”, he chuckled, and fell into an easy conversation with Kate. She was nice to talk to, even when it came to things he normally wasn’t comfortable talking about. But after a while she gave a nod and asked bluntly: “And do you love Steve?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Come on, Bucky, do you love Steve?”  
  
He looked at her with a wry smile. “Course I do. More than even I can imagine. What tipped you off?”  
  
“The lump in your throat when you talked about you not staying in contact. The smile in your eyes when you talked about Steve.”  
  
“Smart girl.” He gave her that.  
  
“No, you were incredibly smart telling me this from an outside point of view. You never talked to me. I got the story from someone. Barnes never spoke to me. But dude, you should really use your voice, now that you got one.”  
  
“You can do that?” Bucky asked wide-eyed, totally forgoing the second part. What voice did he even have?  
  
“I can do a lot of things. This is one hell of a story for me and one hell of a statement on your side for Steve.You get the space in the paper and I get the credit. My editor’s going to love me. And America is going to love you.”  
  
“Only if this gets written by the right person.”  
  
“I might just be the right person.” Kate said with a wink.  
  
“And I am starting to believe I have to be thankful for Clint’s habit of picking up strays.”  
  
That was when Clint strode into the room. “You called? Bucky, have you met Kate? Kate, that’s my friend Bucky, the guy everybody is asking questions about these days. You want to ask him some?”  
  
Kate smiled at Bucky. “No, I believe Bucky doesn’t need to answer any more questions today.”

*

****  
  
_More Patriotic Than The Patriots And Not That Much Into Football_

_Captain America’s husband might not be called a Captain, instead he is a real life sergeant and honorably discharged former special forces member. James “Bucky” Barnes, who also went by the call sign Winter Soldier, spent his youth causing trouble in the streets of Brooklyn, together with the well-known Patriots player Steve “Captain America” Rogers. When he got himself carted off to military school, he continued from there, losing sight of his former best friend from Brooklyn. Instead he started saving lives in Afghanistan. On his last deployment, however, something went wrong. Barnes almost lost his arm trying to save civilians, so all of a sudden, he found himself at the end of his military career. He relocated to Los Angeles where he is teaching Russian language and literature, something useful he picked up in Afghanistan. His life had just started to fall back into a steady, even pace, when he saw his former best friend in the papers, being a successful member of the New England Patriots. Slightly bitter, Barnes reluctantly followed Rogers’ career, until he started watching football games, even though he had never had any heightened interest in the sport. His friend Clint Barton says: “I told him everything he knows about football. I taught him the rules and the details of the game. Let me tell you, he could not have cared less.”_   
_All that was about to change with a fateful trip to Vegas one weekend; “Me and my…Natasha, we decided to take the sulking mess to Vegas. It took us all of three hours to lose him.”_   
_According to Barnes’ friends, no one really knows what happened that night, except that the next morning saw Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes married to one another. Rumor has it that not even the men themselves can recall all the events leading up to their impromptu wedding. A hasty goodbye followed and, being a sensible fellow, Rogers’ manager wanted the marriage annulled. In the process of talking things through, Barnes and Rogers discovered that there had been a reason for their shotgun wedding and that reason was more than twenty years of pining. They decided to put the annulment on ice for the time being and to get to know each other again. After a couple of dates, they decided to stay married. “It might not be the most conservative way to go about things, but it worked for them” a source close to the couple states. They informed the Patriots right away, and the players accepted the former war hero easily as Rogers’ spouse, with Rob Gronkowski commenting via message that “Buck puts the home in home games, I’m gonna miss seeing his face in the stands whenever we’re playing in Foxboro.”_   
_They kept their relationship low key, but not secret, but with raising awareness of the LGBT+ community, the Patriots decided that this was not the publicity they were looking for. The contract renewal came to a hold and suddenly the formerly stealthy Winter Soldier found himself in the focus of attention, a place he was not used to. “He really just wants to live his life and he doesn’t really understand the public interest in his persona. Or as he’d say it: ‘I’m not Gisele Bündchen, what do they even want from me?’ He’s not rude, but he genuinely doesn’t get the fuss people are making.” Clint says. “He’s only there for the tight pants and his husband’s heinie.”_   


When Kate’s article hit the stands, it started out slowly. A few reposts on social media here, a couple of quotes on there. But then other newspapers started to publish it. And it started to spread. And suddenly they were mainstream media discussion. They were everywhere, as was Clint’s “heinie-Quote” to Clint’s pleasure and Bucky’s despair. They were everywhere, from papers to social media, from tv to youtube. People were having opinions. And most of the opinions which mattered, seemed to be in favour of them. And most of the other people knew that it was a bad idea to publicly speak against homosexuality, even though there were some who did not let that keep them from splurting their opinions into reporters faces. But they were the minority. Most people applauded Bucky and Steve for standing up for their marriage.

*

When he was papped that day, Bucky Barnes wore a shirt that said: “Will trade racists for refugees”.

*

The article didn’t do anything to decrease the public attention, though. In fact, now even more people wanted to talk to Bucky about his time in the military and about him being a veteran and hero. Sam’s tumblr-blog had more than 2000 followers by now, because stucky-is-reel seemed to know things. And Sam loved it. Sam also loved the fact that by now, Steve had gotten more and more requests by other teams to join them. It seemed like the Patriots had had it entirely backwards. Due to the whole scandal, Steve’s marketing value actually started to rise.

*

**God_of_Thunder** : @stevie_wonders nice beard, trying to fit in with the Vikings already?

 **stevie_wonders** : @God_of_Thunder Thanks, no, actually, someone on the Patriots’ marketing board told me to get a beard and it’s nice not to shave every morning. ;)

**stevie_wonders** : Also, your grandma says Hi!

**CaptainMyCaptain** : Shots fired!! @stevie_wonders @God_of_Thunder: Thanks, no, actually, someone on the Patriots’ marketing board told me to get one and it’s nice to not shave every morning. ;)

**Stucky-forever-94** : Slay @stevie_wonders @God_of_Thunder: Thanks, no, actually, someone on the Patriots’ marketing board told me to get one and it’s nice to not shave every morning. ;)

**TonyStank** : 911? I need to report a burn victim @stevie_wonders @God_of_Thunder: Thanks, no, actually, someone on the Patriots’ marketing board told me to get one and it’s nice to not shave every morning. ;)

Steve deleted the comment after half an hour as more and more people pointed out how this could be read.  
**stevie_wonders** : I realised that my former tweet could be read in a way I did not intend. I was talking about my literal beard as a joke.  
**stevie_wonders** : You guys have really dark humor. I like it, but it could get me into trouble

**stevie_wonders** : so my lawyer made me erase that tweet and state my actual intent so I wouldn’t get sued.

The tweet had been erased, but in the age of screenshots, the damage was done. The Patriots couldn’t sue Steve, but they didn’t take it too well. They didn’t dare to make him write a retraction or a statement that they never suggested such a thing, but they said he was stirring the pot. Social media was spinning with the info they had gotten and there were a few articles on online news which featured Steve with his new beard. He normally only wore the beard in the off-season, because someone on the marketing board once had suggested that a clean shaven look would suit his image better, so this was Steve making a small stand. And then a big splash by putting his foot in his mouth. After he was done preparing his next lesson in his office, Bucky looked at the picture of his husband. He liked Steve with the beard. When they had met for the first time after Vegas, Steve had looked like that. He shook his head and smiled.  
“Barnes, what are you doing not writing your husband more?” he asked himself aloud, then went looking for his phone.

B: My dear husband, you look amazing in those recent pictures. Just meant to tell you. I miss you.

It took Steve all of thirteen seconds to answer. S: But look at you!  
S: James Buchanan Barnes-Rogers, war hero and America’s sweetheart.

B: Okay, which magazine called me America’s sweet heart. That’s such a lame pun.

S: I liked it. I believe it was E! But for real, that article from Bishop? Amazing. How’d you find her?

B: Didn’t. She’s one of Clint’s strays. We share a couch during the day.

S: Still staying at Nat’s place?

B: For now. I feel safer. Got a bad flare up feeling paranoid, because I felt like people were always following me. PTSD kicks in when you really need it the least.

S: Tell Nat that I am very grateful you have her.

B: You can tell her yourself at the Raiders game in a couple of weeks. We got tickets. Even Nat is coming and she hates football. I think she’s just in it to see you again.

S: Should I be scared?

B: Nat’s really nice under all that…okay, she can be scary, but she’s with Clint. How bad can she be if she’s with Clint?

S: I thought they weren’t official?

B: They are now.

As Bucky got out of his office, there were photographers. He was wearing a “We should all be feminists”-tee.

"Mister Barnes, how do you feel about ..."  
"Mister Barnes, would you mind talking about..."  
"...does it feel to be standing in the spotlight?"

Bucky took a deep breath. "I believe everybody should have access to public healthcare." He said nothing more, just walked straight to his car.

*

It had been a week and Bucky had not heard that much from Steve, mostly, he thought, because Steve was in the middle of looking for another team and doing his job and answering reporters. The initial craze had finally died down, but there was still a lot of interest in Steve. In Bucky as well, but Bucky was not obligated by his work to answer any interview requests. It was a Wednesday morning when he opened his laptop that he saw the pictures. Steve in his stupid “trying to look unconspicuous”-look - hoodie, sunglasses, basecap - meeting up with a leggy blonde in front of Boston Public Library. They were clearly paparazzi shots with Steve hugging her close, her taking his hands as he looked down, giving him a kiss on…the cheek? The lips? Thanks to the poor quality of the pictures, it wasn’t clearly discernible. The air left Bucky’s lungs and he had to sit back in his chair and close his eyes.

 ** _Steve Rogers Played or Player?_**  
_The recent debate over Steve Rogers’ contract with the New England Patriots seems to take a new turn, as Rogers has been sighted meeting with an unknown blonde woman a couple of times. The two of them seem rather intimate and…_  
  
Bucky stopped reading and dropped the paper on his desk. Either it was bullshit or he would not want to read about it in an internet article.  
  
So he tried to call Steve, who didn’t answer his phone. He tried again. And again. His heart racing and his mind spinning. This was not what it looked like. This had to be a mistake. When he called for the fifth time, someone picked up the phone. “Steve Rogers’ phone?” the voice of a woman said. Bucky ended the call. Instead he wrote a short message.  
  
B: Steve? What THE FUCK?!?!  
  
No answer. He was on his way over, thinking about how to get through the last few photographers in front of the university, when Nat called him.  
  
“James, have you seen the photos?”  
  
“Of course I have, I was just on my way over to you, to ask you what you make of them!”  
  
There was a short silence at the end of the line. “You should probably just call him.”  
  
“I did”, he answered. “A woman picked up the call.”  
  
He could hear Nat scoff. “Either your husband’s the meanest piece of shit player walking this earth and so dead…or there’s a simple explanation for all of this. Have you tried calling Sam?”  
  
Bucky gave a short, relieved laugh. “No, I haven’t. God, Nat I love you!”  
  
“Why are you still talking to me, call him!” Nat urged and hung up.  
  
Bucky did as he was told and when Sam picked up, he heard several voices talking over each other on Sam’s side of the call.  
  
“Sam, what the fuck is my husband doing? Or should I ask who he is doing?”  
  
He could hear Sam shushing the surrounding people. “Bucky, thank goodness you called.”  
  
“Sam, who’s the woman in the pictures?”  
  
“It’s Sharon, our lawyer. Steve was going over several things with her, which is why they met up. And they’ve been friends for a couple years now. Photographers only sold the most incriminating shots. That’s why the pictures look the way they look.”  
  
“So nothing to worry about?” Bucky sighed relieved.  
  
Sam laughed humorlessly. “Oh, we got everything to worry about. This stirrs up drama, even though it’s just a simple rumour. But right now, it’s the last thing we need. The people who loved Steve for being open about you are questioning everything now. They believe they might have been screwed over.”  
  
“Shit.” Bucky muttered. He hated it, but he had to make a decision. Now.  
  
“Buck, I gotta go, there’s also more serious drama than that going on.”  
  
“So I do need to worry?”  
  
“Well, unless Steve settling down with you in California as a Target-employee sounds enticing to you, there’s a lot on the line. The Vikings called and asked what’s with the drama. I am so fucked.”  
  
“Would me coming down to Boston help you guys?”  
  
He heard Sam sigh. “I don’t know anymore, Bucky. But stay clear of annoying reporters if you do. There’s a lot of them here.”  
  
The call disconnected and Bucky went by his apartment to throw the bare necessities into his flight back pack and made it to the airport. On his way, his phone pinged.  
  
S: Shit, sorry, I forgot my phone at Sharon’s office. She’s our lawyer, Bucky. I’ve been meaning to introduce the two of you for a while now. Please don’t get that wrong?  
  
B: Nah, I’m sorry. Talked to Sam. Should’ve just trusted you, no matter what the pictures look like. Can you pick me up at the airport tonight?  
  
S: Are you crazy coming to Boston NOW?!? They are going to eat you alive!  
  
B: Well, I’m your husband. Good times and the bad, remember?  
  
S: Actually, I still don’t.  
  
Bucky snorted. B: Funny. Me neither, to be quite honest. But I think this is what this marriage business implies.  
  
S: When will you be there?  
  
B: 17:50. Let’s give them a show to remember.  
  
S: See you there.

*

As Steve tried to make his way through the crowd at the airport, he could feel eyes on him and Sharon. A lot of them. People started talking and taking pictures as they moved through the arrivals area. He had never felt that vulnerable before. People he’d never seen, knew who he was. It was scary. Especially now, when the vibe he got from them was anything but friendly. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he saw the arrivals list. Bucky’s plane had been early, he looked up the gate and made his way in the right direction, only to hear someone call after him.

“Steven Grant Rogers?!?” Steve knew that voice and when he turned around, sure enough it was Bucky standing there, about 50 feet away, with a smirk on his face. He hadn’t seen his husband in two weeks, but Bucky looked as handsome as ever, maybe a little sharper around the edges. His shoulder length hair had been partly tied back, he had some stubble on his face, was wearing a brown leather jacket over a gray shirt that said: “Home of the Free because of the Brave”, and his signature ripped jeans and combat boots. Steve was still unsure how almost every single one of Bucky’s jeans was ripped. But then again, he didn’t care, as long as his Bucky was standing here in front of him.  
Steve grinned at his husband, who smiled broadly. Bucky did the whole Hollywood-spiel, he dropped his backpack and started to run to Steve. “Boy, I missed you!” Bucky said and threw himself into Steve’s open arms. As he felt the weight of his husband’s body crushing into him, Steve saw from the corner of his eyes how several people took pictures, and lifted his husband off the ground to spin him around for a moment and smile happily into his face. Was this too much? Probably, but he didn’t care. This was fun. He let Bucky down and put their foreheads together, the scent of Bucky’s aftershave filling his senses. “Have you been planning this?” he whispered.

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with mischief and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Maybe a little, but it was way easier than I expected. Smartphones make life so much easier. Also, I didn’t think you’d get my intent this fast.” They looked into each other’s eyes and Bucky leaned in a little further, catching Steve’s lips with his, right then and there in front of a couple hundred people and a whole lot of cell phones. When Steve felt Bucky’s soft lips on his, he sighed contendly and then felt Bucky’s lips turn up into a smile on his. When Bucky wanted to break the kiss, Steve chased his lips with his and Bucky was all too willing to return the gesture. Despite the attention and all the exaggerations aside, Steve hadn’t felt this happy since Bucky had left Boston. His chest was swelling with the emotions and he could feel a couple of tears running down his cheeks. Bucky brushed them away before anybody else could see and whispered: “I’m happy to see you, too, Stevie.”

As they finally let each other go, Steve grinned. “I didn’t come quite unprepared either.” He said and looked over to their right, where the leggy blonde from the pictures stood with Bucky’s retrieved backpack in hands.

“Hi, I’m Sharon.” she said and reached out a hand. Bucky closed the distance and hugged her regardless, her hand awkwardly closing on his back after a moment.

“I’m James, but call me Bucky.”

“I know”, Sharon said, fidgeting a little, then brushing a few loose strands of hair behind her slightly red ears, she was not yet used to that much attention. “Though I mostly know you as a case number. Anyway, how did the two of you come up with…?” Sharon asked suspiciously, then waved her hands from where Bucky had stood and where they now stood in a helpless gesture as she couldn’t quite find the words.

“We’ve been scheming and planning mischief since we were kids. We know pretty well what the other one might have in mind.” Steve explained, laying his arm around Bucky’s broad shoulders and leading him into the direction where they had parked their car. Sharon, still carrying Bucky’s backpack but not complaining, fell in step with them and shook her head.

“You probably get that a lot, but I totally get it now. The two of you. There’s just something about the way you are around each other.” She smiled. Bucky looked up at Steve, who hadn’t had eyes for anything but his husband ever since he first spotted him. They exchanged a small, quiet smile. Then Bucky turned to Sharon and grinned.

“Thanks, Sharon. I didn’t know what to make of you, but you seem to be okay.”

“Seeing that I’ve been carrying your backpack around with me for the past 15 minutes, I’d say I’m awesome.” Sharon replied.

Bucky grinned back at Steve. “I like her, can we keep her?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but chuckled. “You’re spending too much time with Clint, Buck.”

It took the pictures about two minutes to surface on twitter, ten to spread through online news. It took Sam eleven minutes to call. Steve shoved his phone into Bucky’s hands and told him to put it on speaker, as he tried to drive through Boston’s rush hour.

“You guys might just be geniussessees…what is the plural of genius?”

“It’s genii.” Sharon piped up from the backseat.

“Yeah, that. How did you think of the thing at the airport?”

Bucky shrugged. “We just did what we always do.”

Steve gave a nod. “We did us. It always works. Well, most of the time. Sometimes.”

Sharon snorted rather unladylike.

“By the way that’s Sharon, right? Bucky didn’t bring his scary Russian ballerina friend with him?” Sam asked over the phone. His one and only meeting with Nat had left him scarred, because Nat had told him what she’d do to him and Steve in case either of them might hurt Bucky, who was absolutely clueless that exchange had ever taken place.

“Yes, relax, it’s me.”

“I need to talk to you about the Vikings deal. Steve, Bucky, the Vikings put their offer on ice as long as the drama goes on. I mean, we have the upper hand now, but if Stark’s media team pulls out another dirty trick, this thing could go on forever and a day. Sharon, that’s why we need to talk. Could you swing by my office as soon as possible?”

*

After they had dropped off Sharon at Sam’s office and driven the rest of the way to Steve’s apartment, fought their way through the crowd of paparazzi that seemed to have put up a permanent residence on the sidewalk in front of Myrtle’s lawn (not a single one of them dared to step on the lawn and Bucky thought they probably had their reasons), and made their way up to Steve’s apartment, they dropped down on Steve’s couch and Bucky tugged Steve so tightly into him that Steve gave a surprised chuckle.

“What has gotten you all clingy?” he softly asked his husband and carressed Bucky’s cheek.

“I always kinda knew that this was part of your deal, but I gotta admit that I always hoped it wouldn’t come to this point. Steve, I feel so uncomfortable. I almost jumped at your throat when I saw those pictures with you and Sharon and… this ain’t me. I’m so sensitive to everything right now, I’m so irritable, it’s ridiculous. And now it seems that I’m also the reason your career might be in shambles. I don’t want to lose you over this because I can’t handle it and start being an asshole.” He almost sobbed, but all that came up was a choked up, dry sound.

Steve kissed his forehead and lay down onto his back, pulling Bucky on his chest, so that his husband lay on top of him. Then he tightened his arms around him and felt Bucky trembling anxiously. “Bucky, Buck, calm down. This is not your fault. Honey, you have to start believing that this is not your fault. Can you look me in the eyes for a moment?” He looked down his chest at Bucky, who slowly raised his head from Steve’s clavicle. Steve held his gaze and he hoped that his eyes conveyed how much he loved Bucky.

“James Buchanan Barnes-Rogers, it was my decision to marry you. And more importantly in our case, to stay married to you. I had several occasions on which I would have had the opportunity to chicken out, had that been what I wanted to do. I would be happy to clean the toilets after a home game for a living if it meant being with you. And I have to tell you something I haven’t told you before, because I was too ashamed of it before… Anyways, here goes… when you dropped down on your knee to ask me to marry you in my suite in Vegas, I was still so much on the sober side of things that I had the mental capacity to think that this could sink my whole career. I knew, when you asked me to marry you, that this could be a problem in the NFL. And I considered it for a moment. I considered saying no because of my career. And then I looked at you, and I wanted to call you mine so badly that I didn’t care about the aftermath. Even when Sam found us in that hotel room? I was about 95% sure that this was what I wanted. The 5% I wasn’t sure about had nothing to do with me and my decision, but with the fact that it dawned on me that you were not that sober and had not been able to really think this through”, he took a deep breath. “But the moment you asked me, I was so selfish that all I wanted was calling you my husband. And I never gave _you_ the chance to chicken out. We never had the talk what this would mean for your private life. I took that from you in my eagerness to have you…and…I realise now, how deeply unfair this was. I never, for a single moment, considered your mental and emotional health. So, first of all, it’s not your fault. And secondly: I’m so sorry for being an inconsiderate asshole.”

Bucky stared at him open-mouthed. He tried to say something, but Steve could see how words eluded him. His husband leaned up on his elbow and looked at Steve with an expression Steve had never seen before, shell-shocked and shaken to the bone. Then he shook his head. “Steve… I…” He swallowed hard, then buried his head in Steve’s chest and started to shake violently. Steve first thought, he was sobbing and was deeply confused: What had he said? What had he done wrong? But then he realised that Bucky was laughing, but it didn’t do much to alleviate his confusion.  
“Buck? You alright there?”

Then Bucky looked up at him, the brightest smile plastered on his tear-stained face and gave a nod. “Steve, I feel like a stolen princess of some sorts. I have never felt so wanted in my entire life.”

Steve frowned. “Well, Princess Peach, you might have to elaborate that…”

“You know my backstory, all my life, I’ve been shoved from one foster family to the next and nobody ever wanted to adopt me. I never belonged. And all my life, all I ever wanted was a family to belong to. And I thought my chance at that had gone, but now here you go and tell me you wanted to make me a part of your family so badly, you’d give up your career for it. Steve, in all my life, you have been the first person to claim me as their own. And I might not have the classical family, but…I have you. And you and me, we make a family. This is my family. It might be small, but this is my family. Mine.”

“Ours. And if you start quoting Stitch, I’ll never let you live this down.”

“It might be small and it might be broken…” Bucky chuckled, when Steve rolled his eyes.

“…but it’s still good. Yeah, still good. And you found it all on your own.” he smiled at Bucky, who then dropped his head back down onto his chest. “I never knew that you were so unhappy”, he then whispered into Bucky’s hair after he had settled.

“I wasn’t unhappy per se, I was lost and I didn’t have a compass to guide me, that’s more how it felt. And then you came into my life and you were my North, the only constant as I went through – what? – three or four families, and then we lost each other and I was just…roaming the world, looking for somewhere I belong.” Bucky mumbled into Steve’s chest.

“You graded up from Evanescence to Linkin Park?”

“Shut up, Steve”, he chuckled, but then got serious: "Did you feel guilty about stealing me away all that time we were together?"

Steve shook his head. "Mostly in the beginning and the last few weeks, when everybody went berserk. But yeah, felt good to talk about it, know how you see it."

"I am glad we talked. I never realised there were so many issues we hadn't discussed yet." Bucky sighed.

They were silent for a moment, but then Steve needed to know. “So, how do you really feel about the reporters and paparazzi and the media being right up in your face?”

It didn’t take a second for Bucky to answer: “Shit. I feel shit about the reporters. I mean, first of all, I really don’t get it, but I’m also annoyed that everything I do gets commented on. It sucks. I am not a free person anymore. But I think I'm starting to cope. I don't get as anxious any more. But what do we do if you really don’t get a new contract?”

Steve shrugged. “You live near LA, I could always become a stunt double or a personal trainer. And as I said, I don’t care, as long as you’re here. Well, and maybe we’d need to get Sam a new job then. I’d feel guilty just leaving him hanging. Speaking of the devil, I should probably call him.” Steve started to scramble for his phone, when Bucky whined:  
“Steve, could that maybe wait for another five minutes? I wanna enjoy the feeling that I was taken by you because you couldn’t help yourself just a few moments more.” He burrowed his nose deep into the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt and took a deep, relaxed breath. Steve was relieved that in all this madness, in all the crazy stuff that had been going on, Bucky felt happy about them.

“Course. Anything for you, princess.” he whispered. “Anything.”


	6. At Oakland Raiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, it's just...I totally didn't know how to end this. I still don't, but I'm closer.  
> Anyhow, the Pats play the Raiders. And Sam gets nervous.

It was a Wednesday evening and Steve was hanging out at Sam’s place, after he had listened on the phone to Bucky complaining about his students’ poor knowledge of semantics. He kept muck about the fact that he didn’t even know what exactly semantics were, though, but gasped and threw in a couple phrases like “No!”, “They did not…” and “How dare they” to seem supportive. He also made a mental note to look up what semantics were later. Then Sam had promised him dinner, a movie, and no football-related conversation. Of course, Sam being Sam, the “no football-related topics” -promise only held for about twelve minutes, but that had been more than last time, so Steve was proud of his workaholic manager. Sam’s place was one of those places that felt like an Ikea-display: it was immaculately clean, tidy, modern and totally didn’t look like anybody lived in it, which was probably due to the fact that Sam really didn’t spend that much time at home, and the little time he did, he mostly slept. It once more occurred to Steve that Sam might be lonely outside of his job.

After about ten minutes into the movie, they had realised that a couch without a back or arm rest might be fashionable, but it definitely wasn’t cosy. Steve being who he was, just carried the glass couch table out of the way, before he plopped down onto the white shaggy rug and used the couch as his back rest. At first, Sam only looked at him and asked him, if he was serious, but after a couple of minutes, he just sat down beside Steve, mumbling something about sitting on the floor like they were vandals. Steve only chuckled and took a piece of pizza that lay in a pizza box in between the two of them. He could see Sam being suspicious because of the pizza and his white rug, but then he, too, took a slice. This was way better than always just meeting up when there was trouble on the horizon.  
Then, suddenly, half-way through the movie, Sam’s work phone rang. Steve threw him a dirty look, when Sam looked at the number and hastily picked up the phone.  
  
“Sam Wilson, how can I help you?” Steve wasn’t sure, but he had the faint impression that Sam looked slightly flustered. “Yeah, yes, I understand. Yes, of course I will be. I… I believe he will. One moment, let me just confirm that”, Sam turned to Steve: “Bucky’s gonna be at the game this weekend, right?”  
  
“Yes, he and his friends said they’d…”  
  
“Great. Thanks”, Sam turned back to the phone, he was almost buzzing with excitement, “Yes, he will be. Okay. But I’m only Rogers-Barnes’ agent, I cannot make any promises on behalf of Mr. Barnes-Rogers.”  
  
Steve smiled fondly at that, but his interest had been kindled, so he listened intently, as Sam went on:  
“Yes, of course I will talk to him and get back to you. Thank you for your call and we’ll be in touch. Yes. Yes, thank you. Goodbye.” Sam pressed the disconnect-button and looked at Steve, face unreadable.  
  
“What?” Steve asked.  
  
“You said no football.” Sam grinned.  
  
“I don’t care. Somebody wants to draft Bucky? At least that’s how it sounded. But let me warn you, Bucky can’t catch a football if his life depended on it.” Steve noticed he was rambling.  
  
Sam shook his head. “You remember that we got an offer from the Raiders? That was their head of something, I don’t remember, she was talking pretty fast and anyway, she said, she’d like to meet up with you and Bucky the night before the game, just to get to know the people, not the headlines. Seemed like a smart cookie. Do you think Bucky would be okay with that?”  
  
Steve shrugged. “Are they gonna pay for the food? Cause if there’s free food, he’s probably more than okay with it.”  
  
Sam gave a laugh. “That man can eat! And by the way if somebody were to draft Bucky, they’d probably draft him for defense. And he could seriously block and slow some people down. Have you seen his shoulders lately? That guy is built!”  
  
“Naked and up close it’s even more impressive, believe me”, Sam made a face and Steve gave a wink, “I’ll tell him that you appreciate his form, he’s working hard for it. But yeah, the Raiders. That could be fun. And San Francisco is not that far from LA. How’d you feel moving out there?”  
  
Sam shrugged. “Well, beats Minnesota. But we haven’t really gotten that deep into negotiations until now. I’m actually surprised that they are getting back to us now that some of the other teams start to hesitate.”  
  
“Maybe they didn’t feel like they stood a real chance before.” Steve suggested.  
  
“I don’t think that is it, I think they are casting characters as much as players. And by the way, your husband is starting to become quite the fan favourite.”  
  
“Bucky?! He doesn’t even play, what…why?”  
  
Sam opened a page called tumblr, and Steve finally got what he had been talking about whenever he had been talking about his Stucky-fanpage. He was following a whole bunch of other fansites and there were collages of paparazzi-shots of Bucky and his t-shirts. There he was sporting a t-shirt with a picture of the Earth and a text saying “I’m with her”, then he was dressed in a t-shirt that read “Jesus had two dads and he turned out alright”, then the infamous “Science Is Real, Black Lives Matter, No Human Is Illegal, Love Is Love, Women’s Rights Are Human Rights, Kindness Is Everything” longsleeve (he had even landed on the pages of InTouch with this), the “Home of the Free because of the Brave” shirt he had worn at the airport last time, a shirt that said “Good Luck Finding Nemo When The Great Barrier Reef Is Gone” and a shirt saying that “I just wanna save the bees, plant some trees and swim in our seas”. He had realised that Bucky had started wearing statement t-shirts a lot more than before, but suddenly Steve understood something he hadn’t quite put together until now.  
  
“How is Bucky better at this ‘using his visibility to change things’-stuff than I am?” Steve asked Sam. Then he started beaming excitedly: “My husband is freaking amazing!”  
  
Sam smiled fondly. “He’s the best, a little obnoxious sometimes, but the best. You should never forget that. But yeah, he definitely has some popularity going for him. I literally cannot believe how many people on the internet know him, when he doesn’t even have an instagram or twitter-account. And I am not even joking when I tell you that by now, I have gotten a load of interview requests for him. I always tell them that I am not his manager, that he doesn’t even have a manager, but they don’t care, they still want me to forward their requests. Sometimes I do, but Bucky doesn’t want to hear about that. Said he’s not going to be Bucky Kardashian, famous for existing in the public space.”  
  
Sam looked over at Steve, who was seriously gleeming with pride. “Sam, I’d marry him again in a heartbeat.”  
  
Sam shrugged. “I know. But seriously, why don’t you? I mean…you never had a proper wedding. You gave him your superbowl-ring as a wedding band, for crying out loud.”  
  
Steve scratched the back of his head and grinned awkwardly. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. But I don’t want it in the midst of all this “  
  
When he looked back to Sam, he saw him smile sadly. “Steve, I swear, I am going to get us up onto our feet again before the season is over.”  
  
“I know, Sam, I know you will. I’m just not as sure as I was if this public attention thing is ever going to blow over. I would have thought that by now we would not be interesting anymore”, Steve gave a long sigh, he sounded tired, when he went on: “But you should probably call Buck to ask him if he wants to meet up with the Raiders’s head of something. I gotta go have a wee.”  
  
“Thanks for the info, man, I’ll inform the press that Captain America is having a wee. But yeah, getting right to it.” He dialled Bucky’s number (he knew it by heart by now), as Steve left the room shaking his head, and then listened to the call connect. After the third ring, the call was picked up and he heard laughter and then Bucky’s voice, slightly out of breath:  
  
“Barnes-Rogers?”  
  
“It’s me, Sam. Don’t you ever take a look at caller-ID before picking up?” he was somewhere between amused and bewildered; seeing the situation Bucky was in, he could have been anyone.  
  
“Nah, I’ve blocked all incoming calls. Except for like, four numbers…” he seemed to think: “Yeah, four sounds about right.”  
  
“And I am one of those four numbers you didn’t block? I feel honoured, but Mr. Barnes-Rogers, are you on a last name basis with all of them?”  
  
“Nah, I just like to use that name. It’s mine, so why not? And Steve likes when I use it. He has this kink where he likes it when he hears I’m his. And as long as it’s just that and it makes him happy, I can accommodate that.” Bucky hummed. “You probably didn’t need an in-depth description of why I answer the phone the way I do, so what makes you call? The Patriots sent a hitman for me? The Vikings need a PA for Thor? Tony lost his sun glasses?”  
  
Sam needed the quarter of a second to remember why he had called. Bucky had a knack for talking so much about everything when he was in a good mood that he forgot what he actually needed from him. “Yeah, I was calling about…”  
  
A scream came from the other end of the call. “Wait a moment”, Bucky said, then Sam could hear him talk to someone in the background. “It’s Sam, would you mind toning it down a little? It’s just a game, no need to get all riled up because Clint beat you.”  
  
“He didn’t beat me, he tricked me.”  
  
“Nat, for all that’s good and holy, let the poor guy win once. Just once. Please?” Bucky sighed. Then Sam heard foot steps and a door closing.  
  
“Sorry for that, Sam. I need to move back into my place. Those two are driving me nuts.”  
  
“What were they doing? Sparring?” Sam asked.  
  
“Worse, they are playing Uno.” Bucky replied in a grave voice.  
  
“Just the two of them?”  
  
“No, I was playing until you called. But I never win. They are both so competitive, I’m better off losing the game than a limb. I might be the best at losing Uno. Anyhow, you called?”  
  
Sam sighed. “And I’m trying to remember why I called”, he could hear Bucky laugh at that, but then he remembered: “Yeah, Steve and I were having a movie night without football-talk tonight and…”  
  
“How’d that go?” Bucky asked sarcastically.  
  
“Well, not that smoothly, seeing that I am calling you, right?”  
  
“Could be that you’re playing truth or dare and Steve dared you to call me and proclaim your undying love?”  
  
Sam sighed. “Yeah, right. Anyway, I was doing just fine not talking about the stats of the Falcons this season, thank you very much, when I got a call.”  
  
“You got a call? What kind of call?” Bucky shuffled a little on his side of the conversation, probably sitting down somewhere.  
  
“Well, that’s the thing. Do you know the Raiders?” Sam asked.  
  
“Yeah, there’s people who are wearing their merch even though they don’t even know the team, just cause the colours and logo are kind of cool. Also we’re playing them next weekend. What about ‘em?”  
  
“Steve got an offer a couple weeks back. Like, I didn’t really take it that seriously, because they were a little more tentative than the other offers we got. But tonight, this Maria Hill calls me…”  
  
“Maria? Anything I should know? Do we like Maria?”  
  
“Cut the jokes, Bucky. Maria…Ms. Hill told me they were still interested in Steve, actually more than ever, but they would like to meet you.”  
  
Sam could almost hear the walls going up when Bucky answered. “Why?” His tone was cold and distant all of a sudden.  
  
“Calm down, Bucky. She just wants to get to know you, me, and Steve. It won’t be formal. There will be free food. It’s not like it was with Stark. They just…Bucky, it’s not a bad thing.” Sam didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to pressure Bucky, but Steve’s career might depend on this.  
  
Bucky was silent for a moment. Sam could hear his fingers beat a nervous tattoo on a surface nearby. Then Bucky sighed. “This is important for Steve, right?”  
  
Sam nodded, until he realised that nodding didn’t make any sense. “Yes, it is. And I don’t want to lie to you, I have a feeling, the Raiders are casting characters, like…you know, good players but with a distinct personality. With a likability-factor. But they…”  
  
“…they know what’s up and they want me included. Which is why they have to meet me?” Bucky ended Sam’s statement dryly.  
  
“Yeah… listen, I don’t even know what to think about this and I get that you might be nervous…”  
  
“But there’s gonna be free food?” Bucky just asked, his voice half joking again.  
  
Sam chuckled nervously. “Yes. And me and Steve. No reporters, no lawyers, nobody except for the four of us.”  
  
“I’m in. But the moment, I feel personally attacked or they ask me to become the team mascott, I’m outta there.” Bucky gave a laugh. “Can’t be worse than just about everything we’ve been through so far, right?”  
  
“Please don’t curse this, Bucky.” Sam laughed, but he had a good feeling about it, now that he had convinced Bucky. This could be good.  
  
“Any dress code?” Bucky tore Sam from his thoughts.  
  
“Come as you are. They want to get to know you, not some guy wearing a suit.”  
  
“I like the sound of that. Just tell me where to be and I’ll be there.” Bucky said calmly.  
  
“Cool, I’ll get back to you when I know more. And see you on Saturday, right?”  
  
“Not if I see you first.” Bucky said, his tone light again. Yes, he had a good feeling about this.  
  
Sam said his goodbyes, hung up the phone and almost startled when Steve pushed himself off the door frame to his living room, where he’d been standing for a while, as it seemed.  
  
“So, Bucky okay with the meeting?” He asked, the stubborn crease between his eyebrows deep with worry.  
  
“More than okay, actually. He seemed pretty calm. You know what has gotten into him? Like, he’s still concerned about the press, but not as panicky as he was and he’s so…cool with it all.” Sam shook his head in wonder.  
  
Steve fished out his phone and pulled up a message. “He said the other day that it’s mostly because he…” Steve looked it up from his phone: “he ‘learned how to control his own narrative’. I love it when he talks literature professor to me, but I start to feel like out of the two of us, he would have been the better celebrity.”  
  
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, no, I get it. He took ownership of his public appearances and has gotten his sense of agency back. He can bring up subjects that are important to him and hide behind the bigger message. It’s quite clever, even if it doesn’t really solve the problem at hand. And Steve, you’re a great public figure. You’re like a giant Golden Retriever, everybody loves you.”  
  
Steve gave a small snort. “Thanks. But for real, I can come off as slightly daft sometimes.”  
  
“Steve, you’re a football player, it’s part of the image. No matter how many university degrees you get, someone will always think you got hit in the head once too often. And hey, people think you’re brave, courageous and funny, leave something for Bucky as well. Let him be the smart one.”  
  
At that, Steve looked incredibly proud of his husband and Sam had to smile.  
“I’m gonna call Maria back, then we can get back to our movie night.”  
  
“Who’s Maria?” Steve asked.  
  
“The head of something at the Raiders.” Sam answered as he pressed ‘dial number’.  


*

Bucky and his friends arrived in San Francisco on Friday evening, because Nat said she had wanted to spend time with the people Bucky hung out with so often these days and they’d been robbed of that opportunity on Saturday, because of the meeting. That was how Steve found himself in Players Sports Bar San Francisco on Pier 39. Sam had asked him if he was the only one that thought it might be a bad idea for the player of an opposing football team to visit a sports bar on the evening before a Raiders game, but Steve told him that Clint had been fascinated by the fact that there was an arcade in the same building. Sam had rolled his eyes and went back to his phone to type a message. When he had put it back into his pocket, he’d asked:  
“How does someone as intimidating as Nat end up with such a…special case like Clint? He’s a kid in a thirty year-olds body” he asked Steve as they made their way down Pier 39.

Steve shrugged. “Well, love isn’t always logical. He’s probably exactly what she needs when life gets too complicated. And he’s been in Special Ops from what Bucky has told me. Severe case of PTSD, he deals with it in a weird way, but he deals with it.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“He’s the reason Bucky wore that veteran tee the other day. To most people Clint may seem mostly weird, but only a few notice that he needs psychological help that has to be funded.”

Sam went quiet, until Steve nudged his shoulder. “Hey, I didn’t mean to bring down the mood. We’re gonna go have a nice evening with Bucky’s friends, what has you looking that concerned?”

“I’m… What if we don’t have anything to talk about? I have nothing in common with these people.”

“Oh, but you do.”

“Do I?”

“It’s called Bucky.” Steve grinned. “I found that for them it is a testament to your character when Bucky likes you.”

“The redhead threatened me last time I met her. Said that if you or I hurt Bucky, we’re done with this life.” Sam replied sceptically.

Steve just wanted to reply to that when they had reached the bar and where already given an emphatic welcome by three people sitting around a table. Sam looked at Steve, who cocked an eyebrow at him, then shrugged. Right now, none of the three people at the table seemed incredibly threatening, waving their hands in the air and laughing, then calling their names. Sam relaxed a little as he sat down beside Nat and she gave his hand a firm squeeze and him a small smile.  
“Hi Sam, Steve, nice that this worked out.” She said in a voice that sounded like she had drunk nothing but whiskey for the past week.

“Great to see you two again, and thanks for taking in my husband when he was in need.” Steve said and smiled easily.

It was Clint who laughed at that. “No need to thank us for that. Before he met you, your husband spent most of his life at our place anyway. We have almost missed him now that he’s been living on his own, our little one.”

“Guys, guys, that’s not even true, I didn’t sleep at your place more than three nights a week!” Bucky protested.

“Did too”, Nat threw in, “And I even caught you sleeping at the office once because you didn’t want to go home.”

“I fell asleep over a stack of papers I had to grade and didn’t want to take home, because those weigh a ton.”

“It’s okay, Buck, you know we love having you at our place as often as possible.” Nat said and smiled.

“Except in certain situations. There’s things you don’t need to witness.” Clint felt the need to add.

Sam had to laugh. “I know the feeling, buddy. I only go home to sleep, most of the time. Thank goodness I rented a furnished apartment, I would still be sitting on moving boxes if I had ever tried to buy furniture for myself.”

“Well, you never leave your office anyway, I mean, most of your post gets delivered there as well, so… why not just sleep there?” Bucky teased.

“Who told you about my post?”

Steve made a guilty face.  
But Nat laughed: “Nah, I heard it’s unhealthy to work where you sleep. It can lead to insomnia or something. You just need to find someone to come home to.”

Steve snorted, but Sam just shrugged. “It’s not that I’m not trying.”

“Dude, leave the football talk when you’re on a date. I’ve told you that a hundred times.” Bucky sighed.

“Oh, I am with Bucky on that. Nothing to bring down the mood as fast as football. Could somebody tell Clint?” Nat asked with a small smile towards Clint.

“I’m right here, thank you very much.” He said, looking less than impressed and slurping on his milkshake.

Sam stole a quick glance at his phone and snorted at Clint’s remark.

And the evening went on like that, they got on like a house on fire and the only bad thing about the evening was the Clam Chowder Disaster, in which Bucky had made the terrible mistake of ordering clam chowder in San Francisco, assuming it would taste like the chowder he was used to from Boston. It wasn’t pretty and there was a lot of cursing. As Bucky was still complaining about that, Nat pulled Sam a little further away from the group.

“Thanks for looking out for Bucky in this whole media mess. I am beyond relieved he had someone on his side. This whole thing could have turned really ugly had the two of you reacted or decided any differently. So thank you for being on Bucky’s side.”

Sam shook his head. “No need to thank me. I saw the two of them together and I was sold. I love him since the first time I officially met him. Not the day in the hotel room, but the next time. He’s like family. But don’t tell him, I said that. He’d mock me till my dying day.”

There was an unreadable smile on Nat’s face as she replied. “Oh, that he would.”  


*

When Steve and Bucky entered the hotel room they shared, Steve crowded Bucky against the door.  
“Haven’t seen you for so long”, he almost purred, as he drew ever closer until their foreheads were finally touching.  
Bucky shivered at the breath of his husband caressing his skin. “Way too long”, he replied and chasing down Steve’s lips with his, his fingers clawed into the fabric of Steve’s white t-shirt.  
Steve closed his eyes, breathing in Bucky’s scent and trying to get even closer to his husband.

Bucky chuckled. “Steve, you know the deal, no sex before game days. It makes you too relaxed, remember?”

Steve groaned. “Does it really matter? I mean, I won’t be playing for the Pats next season anyways and…”

“It would look incredibly suspicious if you signed with the Raiders after you didn’t deliver in a game against them? Also, what about playoff qualification? You don’t want a chance on another ring?”

“Do you always have to be so sensible, Buck?” Steve sighed, then drew him into a bone-crunching hug.

“One of us has to in the absence of Sam.” Bucky said and gave Steve a kiss on the side of his face. “Besides, I don’t wanna listen to you moan about not making the playoffs. And hey, you’re living your dream, so I’m gonna support you where I can. Even if that means a cold shower before bed.”

Steve chuckled quietly. “God, you really love me, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t be here anymore if I didn’t. I’m not that into football, you know?”

“How did I deserve that, Bucky?”

“You’re really nice to look at. And you’re a decent human being. Plus, I was still hung up on you from back in the day. Oh, and Sam said, you might be worth a few million dollars in case you get a contract…” Bucky joked.

“Sam, eh? By the way, do you know who he was texting all evening? He tried to be sneaky about it, but…”

“I wish I knew, but I have no idea. Probably something about your career or the meeting tomorrow or something. Dude doesn’t have a private life. We should send him on a vacation.”

Steve let go of him and turned into the room, sitting down on the couch. “Probably, yeah.”

It was silent for a moment, as Bucky made his way over to the couch, sat down and let his feet drop into Steve’s lap. “I’m not even joking. Even if Sam spent the whole off-season at my place and only watched Netflix, he really needs to relax after this mess of a season blows over. We should destroy his cell phone, too.”

Steve shook his head and laughed. “You know that I was afraid that you and Sam would never get along in the beginning? Sam was really not having it when I tried to convince him that you weren’t after my money. I don’t even know why he changed his mind. But I’m glad he did.”

“I know what did…he called me. And I told him that we stole the meds for your mom. I’m sorry.”

“He knew that already. Full disclosure when he took me on as a client. He just never knew you were the one who took the fall. He never even told me you told him.”

“I kinda made him swear not to tell anyone, because no one knew the story except for the two of us.”

With a shake of his head Steve kissed Bucky’s forehead. “I guess I can be glad I got the two of you.”

“Don’t forget, Nat and Clint decided to adopt the two of you as friends. You don’t really have any say in that anymore, so yeah, you got yourselves some new friends tonight.”

“That’s high honours, coming from the two of them. But yeah, we’re lucky to have them as well.”

Bucky smiled at Steve. “We have built ourselves something resembling a real life, don’t we?”

“I just wish we could take Myrtle with us.” Steve sighed.

“About that…” Bucky grinned, “Myrtle is looking to sell her place in Boston. She said she’ll be moving closer to her grandson and his family. Apparently, you were the last thing keeping her in Boston. She felt like she had to take care of you, when you moved in, because you were so lonely and kept to yourself. What did you do before you met me? Didn’t you have any friends?”

“I do! I did… well, most of them I left behind when I left college. T’Challa was a good friend back then, we spent a lot of time together, because we were both on the team and had some of the same classes in political science and ethics. Turned out we shared a lot of opinions on recent political debates. We once got arrested during a demo and his younger sister had to bail us out. She’s a genius, you’d love her, she is into tech and building gadgets. Just like you.”

“Only I mostly like using and trying to understand them, not creating them.”

“She doesn’t mind as long as you bring the right enthusiasm to the table. I should call them up some time, maybe they’d like to come stay with us for a couple days.”

“I never knew you and T’Challa went to the same college. I mean, he took his time evaluating me and I don’t know what went down in that locker room of yours, but…I didn’t know.”

“No, I know. It’s awkward for us, being on different teams. It can be a minefield. But I guess he’d be worth reaching out to. I already caught him off-guard with being gay and all. Came a little out of left field for him, he always wondered why I wasn’t dating anyone in college, but I was too afraid to tell anyone back then, because of my career.”

“But that’s only one guy. And he apparently didn’t even know I was a guy.”

“Thor and I always got along great when he came to visit Myrtle, and he knew I liked guys. I might have tried to see if he might be interested. Tony was something like a friend, too. At least I thought so after he had me on his radar. I don’t know. And then there’s Banner, also from my college days. But he’s some big time scientist these days, rarely has any time to spare. Last I heard, he was on his way to space. And well, you know the guys from the team.”

“No wonder Myrtle didn’t want to leave you to your own devices. You were a hermit. A hermit who tried to hit on her grandson.”

“Was not. I just hadn’t really learned how to navigate that new life of mine. And then you came barging in. And everything changed again.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just funny how fame or infamity works. Suddenly I have all these people in my classes, who couldn’t care less about Russian literature or language, and I have so many people trying to talk to me, but on the other hand, some of the people I was friends with just disappeared from my life altogether.”

Steve gave a nod. “I know. People who can’t deal with it one way or another. But I believe we’re on our way out of this mess. And we might just stand a chance at surviving this rollercoaster ride.”  


*

Sam seemed antsy before their meeting with Maria Hill. They were on their way to the address they had been given and Sam just couldn’t stop fidgeting with his phone. His leg bounced up and down with nervous energy until Bucky, who had the displeasure of sitting next to him in the taxi, violently slammed down his hand on his thigh and fixated it in place.  
“Sam, I won’t tell you a third time, keep your leg still until we get out of this taxi, or I’ll rip it off.” He growled. Bucky was nervous as well, only it didn’t show as much.

Sam sighed. “Sorry, it’s just…what if she doesn’t like us?”

“Since when have you been thinking about that before a business meeting?” Steve asked, frowning hard.

“It’s an important meeting. This is a really big opportunity. I mean, it’s a team on the West Coast.”

Steve shrugged. “So are the Chargers, but I didn’t see you that nervous when you talked to them.”

“The Chargers have a weird logo. And they are boring. Please don’t go to the Chargers!” Bucky piped up.

“But they’d be right next door!” Steve replied.

“Their logo looks like Donald Trump’s hair!” Bucky protested.

“But they’d pay pretty well.” Sam added, glad to defer any attention from his nervous behaviour. Suddenly the cab came to a hold, but when Steve looked out of the car window, they were sitting in front of an apartment building, no restaurant in sight.

“Are you sure, you got the right address?” he asked Sam, who already paid the taxi driver and got out of the cab.

“Yes, come on.” He helped Bucky out of the car and then extended a hand to Steve, who was too busy looking around to notice Sam’s hand. The manager shook his head. “Follow me, please.”

“Steve, do you think he’s just trying to lure us somewhere to sell our organs or something?” Bucky asked mockingly.

Steve cast him an indignant look, but still chuckled under his breath. In the meantime, Sam had gotten to a glass entrance and punched in a four number code, then opened the door. In the foyer, he needed a moment to look around, then led them to the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse and punched in another four-digit-code.  
Steve and Bucky threw each other puzzled looks, but neither dared ask Sam where they were going, because by now, Sam seemed about ready to explode, excitment buzzing all around him. When the door of the elevator opened into the penthouse, Bucky and Steve could look straight out of the panorama window on the opposite side of the room, which had a spectacular view across San Francisco. A brunette woman was standing at a kitchen counter, clearly busying herself polishing already sparkling cuttlery. She looked slightly flustered, as she looked up, then came toward them, but that didn’t take away from her professionalism.

“Good evening, gentlemen, I’m Maria Hill, I’m here on behalf of the Oakland Raiders.” She reached out her hand and shook theirs.

“Nice to finally meet you in person, I’m Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers-Barnes’ manager and James Barnes-Rogers’ friend.” He pointed out the identity of the two other men and Bucky tried hard not to chuckle. Sam was nervous because this was a woman interested enough in football to make a career out of it. And she was a looker. And suddenly he wasn’t really wondering anymore whom Sam had been texting ever since they arrived in San Francisco. Steve seemed to see the same thing, because he started nudging Bucky in the ribs right away.

“Mr. Rogers-Barnes, Mr. Barnes-Rogers, I thought we could eat on the patio. It has a great view of our beautiful city and when it’s not too windy, it’s the greatest place in this building, I really like it there.”

“Please, call us by our first names.” Steve said and smiled.

She looked relieved. “Maria, call me Maria. I hate official talk and all the pomp. You want wine or beer?”

“Uhm, no alcohol for me, I got a game tomorrow, but maybe you got water?” Steve chuckled, and Maria’s ears turned slightly red.

“Right, that was not an attempt at sabotage, just to be clear. And sure. It’s already on the table.”

Sam laughed a little too loudly at that, but she seemed pleased. “Sam? Wine? Beer?”

“Beer. I’m not a big wine fan.” Maria smiled at that and got him a bottle of beer from the fridge.

Then she looked at “James? How about you?”

“Bucky.”

She looked a little confused. “What’s a Bucky?”

“My nickname”, he chuckled. “Please call me Bucky. I feel like I did something wrong whenever someone calls me James.”

“And Jimmy?”

“Don’t even go there.” He said seriously and his eyes narrowed.

“Okay, Bucky, beer or wine?” she asked easily.

“Do you have a nice white wine?”

She shrugged. “I got white wine. It’s supposedly really good. I’m more of a beer person myself.”

“Well, let’s see then.” He smiled and winked at Steve as Sam and Maria tried to act cool.  


*

Dinner was great, Maria had ordered a choice of Asian Fusion dishes, because she was a really bad cook according to herself, and during dinner they were talking about Steve’s career and his college years and everything Bucky wasn’t too interested in. He didn’t care because he had food and was able to enjoy the view of the admittedly beautiful city that spread out beneath them. This really was a beautiful spot and the sunset was breathtaking. He smiled a little. Then he glanced around and realised that Maria looked at him with interest. He met her gaze and smiled awkwardly.  
“You didn’t just ask me a question I didn’t hear, right?” he scratched the back of his head.

She gave a little laugh. “No, sorry, if I made you uncomfortable. I was just trying to make out what you might have been thinking.”

Bucky felt Steve’s eyes on him, Sam was still staring at Maria. Bucky should probably tell him that staring was uncool and could come off as slightly creepy. Then he shrugged.

“I was admiring the view. And…well, maybe questioning why we are here, whatever here might be. Did we just invade your home or is this a company loft or…” he let the sentence taper out.

“I’m glad you’re asking.” She looked around the three guys at the table and then made a gesture toward the living room space. “This is one of the spaces we rent for players, who are not actually living here in Northern California, but who are playing for us. And I thought I could show you a few of the perks that would come with the job, to maybe tip the scales into our direction. And the other reason why I wanted to meet here, is simple enough: discretion. Not everybody needs to know we are in talks and I don’t want to find my face splattered across several more or less respectable papers. No offense, but I don’t need to be the next Sharon Carter.”

Sam shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess. Sharon still hasn’t gotten all reporters off her back. It’s a nightmare.”

Maria smiled at Sam. “I know. We have had similar situations, but I prefer not to be involved. And the two of you are not exactly low profile anymore. Which is one of the reasons why I brought you here today. But back to you, you’ve been awfully quiet all evening, something up?” She tried to look cool, but there was this wrinkle between her eyebrows. Nat had one in the same place, whenever she was trying to figure something out.

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. I just don’t follow football closely, not even nearly close enough to discuss it with the three of you on the same level. I can tell you that I think Thor is cute or that I love the Raven’s jerseys, but otherwise, just not my sport.”

“So, the rumours are true that you are not really a football fan.”

Bucky shrugged with a lopsided smile on his face. “They never believe me, because it’s easier to sell stories, where I only married Steve for his fame and money.”

Maria’s facial expression was unreadable even though she was offering her a small smile. Bucky always thought he had a good poker face, but he had nothing on her. “Did you?” she then asked.

“And why would I do that?” He stoically returned.

“Well, I don’t know, I heard there are people who do that.”

Bucky gave a nod. “I heard of them too. But I prefer to actually love the person I am married to.”

“Understandable. So, if football doesn’t tickle your fancy, what does?”

Bucky snorted. “Haven’t heard that one in a long time. Well, I am a language nerd. I like words, I like to work with people.”

“And in your spare time?” Maria asked on.

“Training, some stunt work, that kind of stuff. I like to stay active. Which has nothing to do with him, by the way.”

Maria gave a nod. “Have you ever considered marketing or public relations?”

“For a moment there, I did. But I’m more interested in how languages work the way they do, not making them work the way I want them to. Also, I love my teaching job. The students might be annoying sometimes, but you always have those one or two kids a year that are genuinely intereted. That publicity thing, though…I don’t know, I am tired of it.”

“It’s a pity, because we considered offering you a position in our PR department. The way you turned your public image around was nothing short of amazing.The way you are using the press to make people aware of certain issues. You are good at this.”

Bucky looked down at his hands with a wry smile. “Thanks. But please don’t forget that I did this, because I had to. I did not choose it. I needed a way to cope with the sudden public interest and the anxiety it got me into and I found one. But that still doesn’t mean that I am comfortable.”

Maria gave an open smile. “I appreciate your honesty, I take it as a No then?”

Sam’s eyes went wide. Steve on the other hand tried to act cool, but the nervous set of his jaw told Bucky everything he needed to know about Steve’s feelings. Maria looked at the two in turn, her sharp eyes investigating the men, and she seemed to notice that she had probably missed something leading to the sudden change of mood. Her face didn’t give him much, but a mild confusion was written in her eyebrows drawing together. So Bucky did what he was best at and just adressed the elephant in the room.  
“Does your signing Steve depend on me taking the job?”

Relieved Maria shook her head wildly. “No! Dear lord, no! What kind of morally corrupt franchise would be be if we struck deals like that? No, if anything, it was supposed to make Steve more willing to come sign with us if we provided for you as well. And I liked the idea. I really enjoyed watching your t-shirt campaign.”

A slight hint of red touched Bucky’s cheeks as he replied: “Then I appreciate the thought, but it’s a No from me. And nice to know, my efforts did not go unnoticed.” He smiled at Maria.

“Pity, but I get you. Not everyone is passionate about this. I tend to forget that sometimes.”

“Thanks, though. For real, I really do feel wooed.” He looked over to Sam and Steve who were still sitting stiffly in their chairs. “Oh my gosh Sam, easy there, take a deep breath, you look like you’re going to suffocate.”

Sam gaped at Bucky, then looked over to Maria. He was only his last shreds of pride away from pointing with his finger from Bucky to Maria and back. “You… I… I can’t believe…you just turned down…I mean…”

“Take a deep breath, Sam. It’s not the end of the world.” Steve chuckled, regaining his own countenance. And that was when Maria’s pokerface broke, as she burst into laughter.

“You…you should have seen your face!” she gasped. It was easy to fall into her laughter, even for Sam. Bucky felt the mood shift again, and what had begun as a business meeting had become a friendly gathering. Sam had reared in his facial expression and tried to give them a stern look.

“Hey, I’m only looking out for my asshat clients’ best interests, that’s you, by the way. So, don’t take this too far, or I’ll make you do a car insurance ad or something.”  
“Make it health insurance, and I’d happily do it.” Steve chipped in happily.

Sam just rolled his eyes at him. “I only meant to make sure you understand that this is your future we’re talking about.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “To be exact, it was my future we were talking about.”

“He’s not wrong”, Maria offered, “And Sam, we already crossed the T’s and dotted the I’s on Steve’s contract. All you have to worry about is if he wants sign it. We talked about that, calm down.” And just like that her hand came down on Sam’s forearm in a more intimate gesture than Bucky or Steve would have expected, but Sam didn’t seem to notice – or mind.”

“So, Steve basically has the job?” Bucky asked.

“If he wants it, it’s his.” Maria said, her attention turning back to Bucky.

“And what consequences would that have for me? Like, is there anything about our image in the press or something other you need us to take into account?”

Maria made a face. It was a stark contrast to her careful demeanour in the beginning of the evening, as it showed instantly what she was thinking. “No. No, really. I mean, it’s not like we don’t care, but we loved the stuff we saw about you. I mean, the real stuff, not the shit Stark made up and started feeding the press. But it was pretty obvious to see. There’s even a pretty big tumblr-account about you we had been made aware of.” She threw Sam a sideways glance and a cocky grin, when Sam caught that look.

“Very funny.” Sam deadpanned.

Steve frowned. “That sounds all kinda cool, but did you just want to meet up to offer Bucky a job?”

“No, I also needed to get a feel for who you are and if you’d fit the team. See what you are about, if your image and your personality go hand in hand.”

“Oh, and do they?” Steve looked curious.

“Oh boy, they do. The way you’ve been eyeing Bucky all evening, seeing if he’s okay. The way Bucky kept track of the conversation to step in if it went somewhere weird. Well, and Sam is just the greatest guy. I’m actually happy I got to meet you and see for myself that you two are in love and not just trying to stir up trouble or publicity.”

“Oh, I’m only here for the money.” Bucky quipped.

“Damn right, you are. I would have almost believed you. At least if I hadn’t seen you.”

“What gave me away?”

“The fact that you thought you were being sneaky playing footsie under the table. Also, do you guys even notice that you start eating the stuff of the other one’s plate that he doesn’t like? Steve, you don’t like olives, do you?”

“Not really, howcome?”

“Because Bucky started picking them off your plate before you even started sorting them aside. It’s so cute, we can’t tell that to people, because it’s almost disgustingly cute. You’re so in tune, you could probably play in an orchestra.”

“That’s actually a really bad idea, seeing that Bucky has no musical talent whatsoever. When he was twelve, his stepmother tried giving him piano lessons. She didn’t try long, though. After a couple of weeks she just decided that Bucky should probably play sports for extra-curricular activity.”

“I wasn’t even that bad…”

“Dude, you sucked out loud.”

“And you should be thanking me for dragging your skinny ass to football practice. You would have never touched a football if it weren’t for me. I had to drag you there.”

“Because I was about 95 pounds soaking wet before I hit puberty. And it was only because you didn’t want to go alone. And then, as soon as you saw an opening, you went and left for track and field.”

“Easier to stare at you from a race track than from a football field where you always had to watch out to not be run over by Dum Dum Dougan!”

“Did you know that Dum Dum plays for Pittsburgh now?”

“Are they always like that?” Maria asked Sam in a low voice.  
  
Sam shrugged. Then he shook his head and sighed. “Who am I even kidding, never let them do any interviews together.”  
  
She chuckled at that, then smiled up at Sam. “What are the chances that I get you up here to play for us?”  
  
Sam grinned. “At the moment, pretty darn good. You did a good job at selling this. And if they are bickering, that means that they are comfortable around you. And it would be great to get those two on the same side of the continent.”  
  
“Would you be moving here as well?” she asked and started playing with the label on her beer bottle.  
  
Sam smiled the warmth in his cheeks away. “I guess so, Steve’s my only client, so no use staying in Boston once he’s here. And Boston winters are really cold.”  
  
“Sam, would you please tell Bucky, that he was the one who wanted to keep the double name?” Steve demanded.  
  
Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
“On the other hand, living on the other side of the continent from those two might have its perks.”  
  
“But the company might be better over here.” Maria said and took a swig from her bottle before Sam could asked her anything in return.  


*

The Patriots didn’t dominate. They won the game, but they did so with a small, hard fought margin. A very small margin only brought about by a critical error in the the Raiders’ offense. Steve tried to read their game for most of the game (which might have contributed to their small margin of victory) and he found himself intrigued. He could see why Maria wanted him. He was exactly the player they needed to get the kinks out of their strategy. His skill set was what the Raiders needed to get their tactic to work fluently. Steve would be able to complement their quarterback and their other players’ skill sets. They’d be an offense to be reckoned with, He’d be a good fit. He could see it, he could be at home right here. He signed on the dotted line only a shower and a short discussion later. He had told Bucky he’d sign. Bucky didn’t have any real concerns and no objections. All Sam had to say was that he didn’t think the other teams would be a better fit. They might pay better, but he too could see it. The Raiders could make Steve great and Steve could lead the team to greatness. Captain America would go rogue and become a Raider. If that wasn’t a news headline, Bucky didn’t know what was. He wasn’t there when Steve signed the contract; he sat in the backroom of a restaurant Sam had rented for them weeks ago, just to get them all together after the game, whatever the outcome of the contract negotiations.

It was a strange sight: Clint was talking game tactics with Sam, while Nat was talking about working in male dominated spaces with Maria, who had followed Sam’s invitation. Steve was nowhere to be seen and Bucky felt drained. Happy, but exhausted. Right now he realised what they had been fighting for those past weeks. He knew, everything had been worth it. This could be a home for Steve. This could be home for him as well. He wasn’t sure about that. He liked LA. LA had taken him in, when he had been broken. He looked over to Nat. She would never move to San Francisco. But it was better than Boston. Only he had to decide if he wanted to live here and commute to LA for three or four days a week or if he’d live in LA and spend his days off here.

He was torn from his thoughts when Steve entered the room and cleared his throat. “Guys, girls. I know this trip has been mostly about me, but maybe I could get your attention just a couple of minutes longer?”

Clint shook his head. “Buck, really, you needed to go and find yourself and attention-starved football star, right?”

Bucky shrugged. “You’ve seen his butt in those pants. You made me look at that butt in thos pants for three hours. I didn’t stand a chance.”

Steve raised his hands in a soothing gesture. “Calm down, calm down, I just needed to get something off my chest. Thank you all for being here. Thank you for humouring me on this weekend. And thank you for all the support Bucky got from you when he needed it most. Thank you Nat and Clint for accepting me into your tightly knit friendship I don’t always understand a hundred percent. Thank you Sam for always having my back. I am the happiest I have ever been with Bucky by my side. Happier than I thought possible on that evening in Vegas. Which is why we never had a proper wedding. We never anticipated this.” He looked over to Bucky. “Or at least I never did. Buck, you make me so happy, I feel like bursting with joy just thinking about the fact that you are my husband. But…Yes, there’s a but.”

He could see Bucky swallowing hard. Bucky had no idea what he was doing or what he was going to say. He realised now that he didn’t even know if Bucky thought this was a good idea or if he’d think he was being ridiculous. Now Steve had a lump in his throat.

“The But is that we never got to have our friends witness our wedding. We don’t have a lot of family left and what we have is chosen family. And we chose them because we want them in our lives, want them to be part of our lives, to witness important moments. So, what I wanted to ask you today, is the following: Will you marry me? And I know you already asked me this and I said yes and this is why we are here. But will you marry me in front of our friends and family?”

He didn’t dare look over to Bucky, but he had to. He had to know, he needed to know. So he slowly raised his eyes and when he met Bucky’s eyes, he saw that Bucky was crying.

“Of course I will, after that speech!”  



End file.
